Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
Moustache
By Louise Imogen Guiney (18611920)A
Sprang to the column thro’ the clearing,
And on to Switzerland and strife
Went grenadiering.
The long hot doomsday of the nations:
He wore a trooper’s scars; he shared
A trooper’s rations;
Bore the despatches; thro’ the forces
From fallen riders, prompt and wise,
Led back the horses;
Quick-witted, tireless as a treadle:
“This private wins,” said Marshal Lannes,
“Ribbon and medal.”
Graven on silver, like a scholar’s;
“Who lost a leg on Jena day,
But saved the colors!”)
They buried him, and fired a volley:
End of Moustache. Nay, that were strain
Too melancholy.
His most of rapture came to bless him,
When, plumed and proud, Napoleon
Stooped to caress him.
How, since, shall lesser honors suit him?
Yet ever, in that army’s stead,
Love will salute him.
Such little, fond, sagacious henchmen,
Write this dog’s moral on your scrolls,
Soldiers and Frenchmen!
Of faithfulness, of worth and beauty;
Lord of all time the slave is placed
Who doth his duty.
But Heaven to use eternal moulds it:
Mark! Some firm pillar of new France,
Moustache upholds it.