Chapter 105 of 280 · 54 words · ~1 min read

XI.

Thine evil deeds are writ in gore, Nor written thus in vain-- Thy triumphs tell of fame no more, Or deepen every stain: If thou hadst died as Honour dies, Some new Napoleon might arise, To shame the world again-- But who would soar the solar height, To set in such a starless night?[ip]