Did he succeed? Let Sedan, Paris, tell;
But silence keep on how, himself, he fell.
Look kindly on this spot, here Bismarck lies.
Death’s kiss’d away the terror of his eyes.
And the brave heart by leisure has been made
A child’s, of which the world was once afraid;
Cleansed is the “blood”—the “iron’s” lost in love,
And now Earth’s Prince is crown’d a King above.
War’s fiery furnaces have fused the race of Teuton blood,
’Twas Bismarck fanned the blaze;