| |
| QUEEN VENUS wander’d away with a cry,— | |
| N’ostrez-vous, man bel ami?— | |
| For the purple wound in Adon’s thigh; | |
| Je vous en prie, pity me; | |
| With a bitter farewell from sky to sky, | 5 |
| And a moan, a moan from sea to sea; | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | |
| |
| The soft Aegean heard her sigh,— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | 10 |
| Heard the Spartan hills reply | |
| Je vous en prie, pity me; | |
| Spain was aware of her drawing nigh | |
| Foot-gilt from the blossoms of Italy; | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | 15 |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | |
| |
| In France they heard her voice go by,— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami?— | |
| And on the May-wind droop and die, | |
| Je vous en prie, pity me; | 20 |
| Your maidens choose their loves, but I— | |
| White as I came from the foam-white sea, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | |
| |
| The warm red-meal-wing’d butterfly,— | 25 |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami?— | |
| Beat on her breast in the golden rye,— | |
| Je vous en prie, pity me; | |
| Stain’d her breast with a dusty dye | |
| Red as the print of a kiss might be! | 30 |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | |
| |
| Is there no land, afar or nigh,— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami?— | |
| But dreads the kiss o’ the sea? Ah, why— | 35 |
| Je vous en prie, pity me!— | |
| Why will ye cling to the loves that die? | |
| Is earth all Adon to my plea? | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | 40 |
| |
| Under the warm blue summer sky,— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami?— | |
| With outstretch’d arms and a low long sigh,— | |
| Je vous en prie, pity me!— | |
| Over the Channel they saw her fly | 45 |
| To the white-cliff’d island that crowns the sea— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | |
| |
| England laugh’d as her queen drew nigh,— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami?— | 50 |
| To the white-wall’d cottages gleaming high; | |
| Je vous en prie, pity me! | |
| They drew her in with a joyful cry | |
| To the hearth where she sits with a babe on her knee, | |
| She has turn’d her moan to a lullaby, | 55 |
| She is nursing a son to the kings of the sea— | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel, mon bel, | |
| N’oserez-vous, mon bel ami? | |
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