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A RHYMED MONOLOGUE IN THE LOUVRE.
“ Belle Marquise, vos beaux yeux me font mourir d'amour."
And he called all Heaven to witness As you sit there at your ease,
Of his ballad and its fitness, ( Marquise !
“Belle Marquise."And the men flock round your knees
You were everything in ère
(With exception of sévère),— Mute at every word you utter,
You were cruclle and rebelle, Servants to your least frill flutter,
With the rest of rhymes as well; “Belle Ilarquise ! "
You were “ Reine,” and “Mère d'Amour"'; As you sit there growing prouder,
You were “Vénus à Cythère"; And your ringed hands glance and go, “Sappho mise en Pompadour”; And your fan's frou-frou sounds louder,
And “Minerve en Parabère"; And your “benux yeux"flash and glow;- y.
You had every grace of heaven
In your most angelic face,
With the nameless finer leaven,
Lent of blood and courtly race;
And he added, too, in duty,
Ninon's wit and Boufflers' beauty: That each sitter was not Circe,
And La Vallière's yeux vcloutés Or at least he told you so ;
Followed these; Growing proud, I say, and prouder
And you liked it, when he said it To the crowd that come and go,
(On his knees), Dainty Deity of Powder,
And you kept it, and you read it. Fickle Queen of Fop and Beau,
“ Belle Marquise !" As you sit where lustres strike you, Sure to please,
In. Do we love you most or like you, “Belle Marquise ! ”
Yet with us your toilet graces
Fail to please,
And the last of your last faces,
And your mise;
For we hold you just as real,
"Belle Marquise!'' On his knees;
As your Bergers and Bergères :
" TILL A FAIRER FACE OUTLIVE YOU,
OR A YOUNGER GRACE SHALL PLEASE."
No; we neither like nor love you,
"Belle Marquise!" Lesser lights we place above you,
Milder merits better please. We have passed from Philiosophe-dom
Into plainer modern days,~ Grown contented in our oafdom,
Giving grace not all the praise; And, en partant, Arsinoć, —
Without malice whatsoever, We shall counsel to our Chloë
To be rather good than clever; For we find it hard to smother
Just one little thought, Marquise ! Wittier perhaps than any other,You were neither Wife nor Mother,
And the languors of your life-time,
As for these,