NAPOLEON shifted,
Restless in the old sarcophagus
And murmured to a watchguard:
"Who goes there?"
"Twenty-one million men,
Soldiers, armies, guns,
Twenty-one million
Afoot, horseback,
In the air,
Under the sea."
And Napoleon turned to his sleep:
"It is not my world answering;
It is some dreamer who knows not
The world I marched in
From Calais to Moscow."
And he slept on
In the old sarcophagus
While the aeroplanes
Droned their motors
Between Napoleon's mausoleum
And the cool night stars.

Added: on February 22nd, 2007 at 2:09 PM | Viewed: 2803 times | Comments (5)

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 5. Statistics
Volume: Chicago Poems
- War Poems (1914-1915)
Year: Published/Written in 1914
Poem of the Day: Jul 12 2002

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