To Napoleon
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he heroes of the present and the past Were puny, vague, and nothingness to thee:Thou didst a span grasp mighty to the last, And strain for glory when thy die was cast.That little island, on the Atlantic sea, Was but a dust-spot in a lake: thy mindSwept space as shoreless as eternity. Thy giant powers outstript this gaudy ageOf heroes; and, as looking at the sun, So gazing on thy greatness, made men blindTo merits, that had adoration won In olden times. The world was on thy page Of victories but a comma. Fame could find No parallel, thy greatness to presage.
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