Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1855-07-28
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LOUIS DAVID, THE REGICIDE.

1t is now thlr.y years since MS uea'h "o
Brussels. On the subject of the interdict
against his dead body by Charles the Tenth,
a piece of ofbrutality bad taste and laundering
ombined-whch three attributes go togeth-
er to constitute q perfect BourboniSm--
Beranger wrote one of the most beautiful Of
his patriotic odes, which was rendered into
English verse by the celebrated Father
Prout, and published in Frazer's Magazine a
few years afterwards. AS the fifth of GEN.
tury has passed away, and another generation
has sprung up since this beautiful translation
scarcely second to the original appeared in
the then glorious pages pages of Regina
it may be unknown to most of our readers
~ Y. Erening Post.
"The pass is barred Fall back = cries the
guard; cross not the French frontier!
As, with solemn tread, of the exiled deaC
the funeral drew near
For the sentinello hath noticed we'll what nc
plume, no pail can hide.
That your hearse contains the sad remains o
a banished regicide
But pity take, for his glory's sake" said his
children to the guard
Let his noble art plead on his part-let @
grave be his reward.
France knew his name in hour of fame, nor
the aid Of his pencil scorned;
Let his passport be the memory Of the tri
umphs he adornedr
L" That corpse can't pass It's my duty, alas
SAID the frontier sentnelle,
But pity take, for his country's sake, and
his clay do not repel
From It's kindred earth, from the land of his
birth 7 cried the mourners in their turn
f'Oh give to France the inheritance Of hei
painters funeral urn;
His pencil traced, on the Alpine waste of the
painless Mount Gothard.
Napoleons course on snow-white horse =
let a grave be his reward
For he loved this land--ay, his dying HAND
to paint her frame he'd lend her.
Let his passport be the memory of his native
country's spleudor
"'You cannot pass, said the guard. 'alas
and tears bedimmed his eyes
Though France may count to pass that
mount glorious enterprise
Then pity take, for fair Freedoms sake,
said the mournerS once again
Her favorite was Leonidas, with his band o.
Spartan men.
Did not his art to them impart lifes breath
that France might see
w nut patTlOt IeW Ill lne gap cOulQ 90 a.
old Thermopyla
Oft by that sight for the coming fight wa:
the youthful bosom fired:
Let his passport be the memory Of the valol
he inspired!
aye cannot pass Soldier alas a disma
loom we crave
Say, is there not some lonely spot where hi!
friends may dig Il grave?
Oh pity take, for that hero's sake whom ht
gloried to portray
Amidst that band the wthered hand of ar
aged pontiff rose,
And his blessing shed on the conquer's head
forgetting his own woes. =
lie drew that scene, nor dreamt' ween, thai
yet little while,
And the heros doom wonld be a tomb, fal
off in lonely isle ?
Il am chargd, alas not to let you pass,
said the sorrowing sentinelle;
His destiny must also be foreign grave
'Tis well =
Hard is our fate to suppicate for his bone.
place of rest.
And to bear away his banished clay from the
land that he loved best.
But let us hence Sad recompense for the
lustre that he cast,
Blending the rays of modern days with the
glories of the past
Our sons will read with shame this deed, un
less my mind doth err.
And future age make pilgrimage TO tn,
painters sepulchre