Verse > Anthologies > Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. > Poems of Places > France
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed.  Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
France: Vols. IX–X.  1876–79.
The Champs Élysées
Joseph Christian von Zedlitz (1790–1862)
The Midnight Review

Anonymous translation

AT midnight, from his grave,
  The drummer woke and rose,
And, beating loud the drum,
  Forth on his errand goes.
Stirred by his fleshless arms,        5
  The drumsticks rise and fall;
He beats the loud retreat,
  Reveillé and roll-call.
So strangely rolls that drum,
  So deep it echoes round,        10
Old soldiers in their graves
  To life start at the sound.
Both they in farthest North,
  Stiff in the ice that lay,
And who, too, warm repose        15
  Beneath Italian clay,
Below the mud of Nile,
  And ’neath the Arabian sand,
Their burial-place they quit,
  And soon to arms they stand.        20
And at midnight from his grave
  The trumpeter arose,
And, mounted on his horse,
  A loud, shrill blast he blows.
On airy coursers then        25
  The cavalry are seen,
Old squadrons, erst renowned,
  Gory and gashed, I ween.
Beneath the casque their blanched skulls
  Smile grim, and proud their air,        30
As in their bony hands
  Their long, sharp swords they bare!
And at midnight from his tomb,
  The chief awoke and rose,
And, followed by his staff,        35
  With slow steps on he goes.
A little hat he wears,
  A coat quite plain has he,
A little sword for arms
  At his left side hangs free.        40
O’er the vast plain the moon
  A paly lustre threw;
The man with the little hat
  The troops goes to review.
The ranks present their arms,        45
  Deep rolls the drum the while;
Recovering then, the troops
  Before the chief defile.
Captains and generals round
  In circles formed appear;        50
The chief to the first a word
  Now whispers in his ear.
The word goes round the ranks,
  Resounds along the line;
That word they give, is—France,        55
  The answer—St. Hélène.
’T is there at midnight hour
  The grand review, they say,
Is by dead Cæsar held,
  In the Champs-Élysées.        60

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