Classic Poem

How the window-panes of the Tuileries
In the merry sunshine glow!
And yet, by broad daylight within,
The old ghosts come and go.

Flora's Pavilion is haunted still
By Marie Antoinette;
She holds her morning levee there
With strictest etiquette.

Court ladies in point and gold brocade
And satins and jewels shine;
They stand or sit at their tabourets,
Bedizened and decked and fine.

How slim their waist! The petticoat
Is hooped and amply spreads;
The little high-heeled shoes peep out—
If only they had their heads!

Not a single head can the company boast;
Not even the queen has one—
Which forces her gracious majesty
To go with her hair undone.

Yes, the queen with her toupee like a tower,
Who once so proudly smiled:
The descendant of German Emperors,
And Maria Theresa's child:

Sits headless now, with never a curl,
Amid her maids of honour,
Who, headless too, with no hair to frizz,
Stand round and wait upon her.

The French Revolution of course is to blame
For the sad and pitiful scene:
Rousseau and Voltaire and their doctrines vile
That led to the guillotine.

But the strange thing is, I am almost sure
That not one of those ladies flaunting
Has any idea how dead she is,
Or knows that her head is wanting.

Affectedly still they fawn and bow,
And mince and strut as they go.
How horrid to watch the headless trunks
As they dip and curtsey low!

The first of the ladies brings a chemise
Of linen without a flaw;
The second one hands the chemise to the queen,
And, curtseying, both withdraw.

A third and a fourth advance in turn,
When the first and the second are gone,
And, kneeling down at her Majesty's feet,
They pull her stockings on.

Then a maid of honour curtseying comes,
And hands her her morning sacque;
Another one brings her her petticoat,
And, bowing low, falls back.

The Mistress of the Robes stands by;
Her bosom she fans the while,
And her head being gone, with her other end
She does her best to smile.

The sun peeps in with a curious glance
To see what the curtains hide.
But recoils in terror as soon as he spies
The poor old ghosts inside.