BY LILLIE E. BARR.
On the glorious field of Austerlitz
Napoleon stood when the day was o'er;
"Legions of France!" he cried, "pass by,
Bearing your eagles, stained with gore,
And torn with shot; but show to France
That none are lost. Advance! advance!"
Then with a shout the legions rose—
Napoleon watched them marching by;
Each flung its banner to the breeze,
And proudly sought their Emperor's eye.
Above the surging thousands toss'd
The precious eagles—not one lost.
Not one? Without its fife and drum
A silent legion sadly tread;
The weary men were dull and dumb—
There was no flag above their head:
The eagle that Napoleon gave
Floated no longer o'er the brave.
Then, white with anger, "Halt!" he cried,
And sternly called the legion's name.
"Your eagle, men!—the flag I gave?
Why die you not for very shame?
Life hath been bought at shameful cost,
If honor and your flag are lost."
With martial tread two veterans step
From out the sad and silent band:
"Sire, we have fought where'er you led,
In Italy, or Egypt's land.
Amid the thickest of the fray,
Our eagle touched the earth to-day.
"And we, unable to retake,
Pressed where the Russian foe came on—
Behold, our Emperor! for thy sake
Two Russian standards we have won;
Yet if our honor thou still doubt,
Then let our lives the stain wipe out."
The Emperor bared his head; then said,
With misty eyes and eager breath:
"Heroes! you've won your eagle now—
Won it from out the jaws of death.
Pass on! these flags shall bear your name
Among the standards kept by Fame."
Beneath the Invalides' grand dome
These Russian standards still find room;
'Mong royal flags of many lands
They droop above Napoleon's tomb.
Such praise and glory have the brave,
Who knew when honor's sign was lost,
At any price, at any cost,
Honor itself to save.
NOBLESSE OBLIGE.
BY MRS. M. E. SANGSTER.
Brownie, old fellow, the grain in the manger
Is yours, and you've earned it. No wonder you stare,
Amazed and displeased, when a pert little ranger
Comes hopping in boldly your dinner to share.
You beautiful creature! so rugged and steady,
So swift and sure-footed, so willing and wise;
Whoever may need you, so gentle and ready,
I know what you're thinking; it beams from your eyes.
He ruffles his feathers, this petty intruder,
And arches his crest, and is gallant and gay.
No conduct could possibly seem to you ruder
Than his, as he leisurely stands in your way.
But you? Why, you'd scorn to be put in a passion;
The cause is too slight. You will patiently wait
Till the satisfied rooster, in vain rooster fashion,
Flies off, without thanks, to some meek little mate.
The thorough-bred follows the law of his being,
'Tis only with equals he cares to contend;
He bears with annoyance quite patiently, seeing
That sooner or later annoyance must end.