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By Gustave le Vavasseur
IT is good to rhyming go | |
| From the valleys of Vire to the valley of Bures | |
| For a poet of Normandy the Low | |
| It is good to rhyming go! | |
| One is inspired and all aglow | 5 |
| With the old singers of voice so pure. | |
| It is good to rhyming go | |
| From the valleys of Vire to the valleys of Bures! | |
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| Do you know one Thomas Sonnet? | |
| He was a medical man of Vire; | 10 |
| And turned very well a roundelay, | |
| Do you know this Thomas Sonnet? | |
| To the sick he used to say, | |
| “Never drink bad wine, my dear!” | |
| Do you know this Thomas Sonnet? | 15 |
| He was a medical man of Vire. | |
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| Do you know one Master Le Houx? | |
| He was an advocate of Vire; | |
| The taste of dry and sweet he knew; | |
| Do you know this Master Le Houx? | 20 |
| From the holly boughs his name he drew | |
| Which as tavern-signs one sees appear. | |
| Do you know this Master Le Houx? | |
| He was an advocate of Vire. | |
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| Do you know one Master Olivier? | 25 |
| He was an ancient fuller of Vire; | |
| He only fulled his tub, they say; | |
| Do you know this Master Olivier? | |
| As to his trade, it was only play; | |
| He knew how to sing and drink and leer; | 30 |
| Do you know this Master Olivier? | |
| He was an ancient fuller of Vire. | |
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| Olivier, Le Houx, Le Sonnet | |
| Are Peace, and Tavern, and Poesy; | |
| Every good rhymer knows to-day | 35 |
| Olivier, Le Houx, Le Sonnet. | |
| Dame Reason throws her cap away | |
| If the rhyme well chosen be; | |
| Olivier, Le Houx, Le Sonnet | |
| Are Peace, and Tavern, and Poesy. | 40 |
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| Vire is a delicious place, | |
| Vire is a little Norman town. | |
| ’T is not the home of a godlike race, | |
| Vire is a delicious place; | |
| But what gives it its crowning grace | 45 |
| Is the peace that there comes down. | |
| Vire is a delicious place, | |
| Vire is a little Norman town. | |
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| There are taverns by the score | |
| And solid are the drinkers there. | 50 |
| More than in Evreux of yore, | |
| There are taverns by the score. | |
| One sees there empty brains no more, | |
| But empty glasses everywhere. | |
| There are taverns by the score, | 55 |
| And solid are the drinkers there. | |
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| ’T is the fresh cradle of the Song, | |
| And mother of the Vaudeville; | |
| Lawyers as cupbearers throng, | |
| ’T is the fresh cradle of the Song. | 60 |
| The fullers pierce the puncheons strong, | |
| The doctors drink abroad their fill; | |
| ’T is the fresh cradle of the Song | |
| And mother of the Vaudeville. | |
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| It is good to rhyming go | 65 |
| From the valleys of Vire to the valleys of Bures! | |
| For a poet of Normandy the Low, | |
| It is good to rhyming go! | |
| One is inspired and all aglow | |
| With the old singers of voice so pure. | 70 |
| It is good to rhyming go | |
| From the valleys of Vire to the valleys of Bures! | |
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