"He was the tool of tyrants." Be it so!
Cares Poetry for Party? No!
The Poet gathers his perennial bays In all domains.
Reign Kings of Earth who chuse!
Since Homer sang, since Ilium's dazzling days,
He owns no sovereign, save the Muse.
He reverences Napoleon's mighty mind ,
Yet weeps, too, when the Bourbon D'Enghien dies.
He knows Man but as Man: you cannot bind
His catholic soul by party- ties!
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Other Poems of Interest...
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