I.

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
 A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon
 Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
 Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
 Oppressive with its mind.

	II.

Just as perhaps he mused ``My plans
 ``That soar, to earth may fall,
``Let once my army-leader Lannes
 ``Waver at yonder wall,''---
Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
 A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew
 Until he reached the mound.

	III.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,
 And held himself erect
By just his horse's mane, a boy:
 You hardly could suspect---
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
 Scarce any blood came through)
You looked twice ere you saw his breast
 Was all but shot in two.

	IV.

``Well,'' cried he, ``Emperor, by God's grace
 ``We've got you Ratisbon!
``The Marshal's in the market-place,
 ``And you'll be there anon
``To see your flag-bird flap his vans
 ``Where I, to heart's desire,
``Perched him!'' The chief's eye flashed; his plans
 Soared up again like fire.

	V.

The chief's eye flashed; but presently
 Softened itself, as sheathes
A film the mother-eagle's eye
 When her bruised eaglet breathes;
``You're wounded!'' ``Nay,'' the soldier's pride
 Touched to the quick, he said:
``I'm killed, Sire!'' And his chief beside
 Smiling the boy fell dead.