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Robert Browning - Incident Of The French Camp
Work rating: Medium

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.
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