Monseigneur Plays

Monseigneur plays his new gavotte--     Within her gilded chair the Queen     Listens, her rustling maids between;     A very tulip-garden stirred     To hear the fluting of a bird;     Faint sunlight through the casement falls     On cupids painted on the walls     At play with doves. Precisely set     Awaits the slender legged spinet     Expectant of its happy lot,     The while the player stays to twist     The cobweb ruffle from his wrist.     A pause, and then--(Ah, whisper not)     Monseigneur plays his new gavotte.     Monseigneur plays his new gavotte--     Hark, 'tis the faintest dawn of Spring,     So still the dew drops whispering     Is loud upon the violets;     Here in this garden of Pierrettes'     Where Pierrot waits, ah, hasten Sweet,     And hear; on dainty, tripping feet     She comes--the little, glad coquette.     "Ah thou, Pierrot?" "Ah thou, Pierrette?"     A kiss, nay, hear--a bird wakes, then     A silence--and they kiss again,     "Ah, Mesdames, have you quite forgot--"     (So laughs his music.) "Love's first kiss?     Let this note lead you then, and this     Back to that fragrant garden-spot."     Monseigneur plays his new gavotte.     Monseigneur plays his new gavotte--     Ah, hear--in that last note they go     The little lovers laughing so;     Kissing their finger-tips, they dance     From out this gilded room of France.     Adieu! Monseigneur rises now     Ready for compliment and bow,     Playing about his mouth the while     Its cynical, accustomed smile,     Protests and, hand on heart, avers     The patience of his listeners.     "A masterpiece? Ah, surely not."     A grey-eyed maid of honour slips     A long stemmed rose across her lips     And drops it; does he guess her thought?     Monseigneur plays his new gavotte.