Explore "Incident of the French Camp" by Robert Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: / A mile or so away, / On a little mound, Napoleon / Stood on our storming-day; / With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, / Legs wide, arms locked behind, / As if to balance the prone brow / Oppressive with its mind.
Just as perhaps he mused "My plans / That soar, to earth may fall, / Let once my army-leader Lannes / Waver at yonder wall," -- / Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew / A rider, bound on bound / Full-galloping; nor bridle drew / Until he reached the mound.