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Front Page arrow Titles (by Subject) arrow ON THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES. - The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

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ON THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

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From The Works of Voltaire, A Contemporary Version, (New York: E.R. DuMont, 1901), A Critique and Biography by John Morley, notes by Tobias Smollett, trans. William F. Fleming. Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

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ON THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES.

    • The cedar which so long defied the rage
    • Of winds and storms, now sinks upon the ground;
    • That cedar which could flourish even in age,
    • And with its boughs o’ershade the states around.
    • The stroke is given, the cedar dies,
    • And on the plain extended lies.
    • Behold the king of kings supreme in power,
    • Death from his brow has thirty diadems torn;
    • His power extensive’s vanished in an hour,
    • Crowns can’t preserve the men by whom they’re worn.
    • Oh, haughty race! oh, race august!
    • You now are levelled with the dust.
    • The tomb absorbs his very name,
    • He’s now no longer the renowned;
    • That he once reigned is all his fame,
    • No courtiers now his praise resound.
    • Thus kings, when once life’s breath is fled,
    • Are numbered with the vulgar dead.
    • Ah! wherefore did he not his squadrons head,
    • Where Eugene deluged deep the ensanguined field;
    • His numerous cohorts by their monarch led,
    • Had made the allied army quit the field.
    • Their arms the Empire had upheld,
    • And the invading Turks repelled.
    • Had he not idly loitered in a town,
    • And none but his own chiefs with dread inspired;
    • Had he to pull the haughty sultan down,
    • Warm with ambition’s noble flame aspired:
    • Had he fell Turkish rage restrained,
    • And from his subjects’ blood refrained;
    • All war declining like a monarch sage,
    • Had he to mankind shown himself a friend;
    • With virtue, arts, and plenty, blessed the age,
    • And to alarms and discord put an end;
    • Revived the peace to Rome once known,
    • When great Augustus filled the throne;
    • Then fame had round him waved her purple wings.
    • With glorious light his head encircled round:
    • He had been placed among illustrious kings,
    • He had been as a patriot king renowned.
    • Happy had been the monarch’s fate,
    • Esteemed not only good but great.
    • I don’t the harmonious art of verse profane,
    • I do not dip my pen in satire’s gall;
    • Apollo disapproves the audacious strain,
    • I must not one reproachful word let fall.
    • I must not by one single line
    • Offend a king; the royal power’s divine.
    • But sacred truth, impartial goddess fame,
    • Thou to whose orders mortals still attend;
    • Love of mankind, which does my breast inflame,
    • Your needful succor to my genius lend.
    • Do you my lays inspire,
    • Mortals I’ll teach to aspire.
    • Monarch, death cites you to that court august,
    • Wherein posterity, a judge most sage,
    • Shall pass on you a sentence wise and just,
    • Trusting the depositions of your age.
    • ’Tis to posterity alone,
    • The real worth of kings is known.