Now thou hast left this friendly shore,
And civic shouts are heard no more,
Crisping afar the pliant wave
That bore the beauteous with the brave..
Aloof from others here I stand
Erect upon my native land.
Napoleon! never came I near
The courtly train while thou wert here,
Nor sought the depths of that calm eye
To me once friendly: hear me why.
No, hear not me, but Rome; and there
Look on the broken curule chair.
Above its fragments sits elate
A priest! o’er all that once was great.
We grieve it gone, but grieve far more
To lose what one man could restore.
Whatever country be our home,
We had one nurse, and she was Rome.
The past is past, but may return,
And wisdom yet more wisdom learn.
Power is unstable, Truth is not;
Be both, for Europe’s sake, thy lot!
Tell Justice to outspread her wings
And cool the crazy heads of kings:
Her balance may be now restored
By throwing in the Gallic sword.
Thy future glory let it be
To serve the good and rule the free.