Giosuè Carducci

“ With childhood's brightness on them, seem to wait
The furrow that is left by the caress
Of the maternal hand. But now instead
They are cast into darkness, these young souls,
With none to comfort ”

“ A superb symphonic presentation of the whole Napoleonic tragedy, beginning with the parallel drawn in the first four stanzas between the Prince Imperial, son of Napoleon III., and the King of Rome, son of the first Napoleon; and closing with the tremendous portrayal of Letitia, mother of the race—the "Corsican Niobe"—as she stands with her "proud arms" stretched toward the "savage sea," beyond which her children have fallen. ”