Louis XVI
FRANCE .
A livid throng surrounds thy Tuileries,
A famished people, armed with gory spikes,
Treads on the ancient crown of its dislikes,
Rushing upon the palace like great seas,
In untamed fury, and thou hast no dykes
Of steel and cannon to stop men like these!
It needs more lenient treatment to appease
And curb an outraged nation when it strikes!
Poor, helpless king, thou couldst expect no grace
From men who, taunting thee with insults keen,
Resolved thy royal lineage to efface,
And doom thy life, thy court, thy son, thy queen!
Until the crimes of the whole Bourbon race
Were purged in blood upon the guillotine!
A livid throng surrounds thy Tuileries,
A famished people, armed with gory spikes,
Treads on the ancient crown of its dislikes,
Rushing upon the palace like great seas,
In untamed fury, and thou hast no dykes
Of steel and cannon to stop men like these!
It needs more lenient treatment to appease
And curb an outraged nation when it strikes!
Poor, helpless king, thou couldst expect no grace
From men who, taunting thee with insults keen,
Resolved thy royal lineage to efface,
And doom thy life, thy court, thy son, thy queen!
Until the crimes of the whole Bourbon race
Were purged in blood upon the guillotine!
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