Thus came Napoleon—and, on every hand,
Fair Joys prepared to hover o'er the land.
Then, France! thy glorious age was nigh begun,
When rose upon thee such a glorious sun;
Soon had thy bliss and praises been complete,
And Earth had, falling, worshipped at thy feet.
Beneath this monarch's rule—who loved the best—
Thy meanest subject had been very blest.
And thou had'st antidated our high claim
Of rescuing man from civil slavery's shame.