Classic Poem

M ARGARET of Burgundy,
Frailest of the frail,
Tempted many a gallant
To the Tour de Nesle.

With caresses burning,
Made his soul her own;
Then she softly stabbed him
Dead—without a groan.

Stabbed him, while her kisses
Drained his parting breath;
What a modulation
That—from Love to Death.

Mozart the magician,
Thus from jubilee
Deftly shifts the tonic
To a minor key.

As at Juan's banquet,
Wassail, mirth, and glory,
Freeze to awe when raps
Il Commendatore,

At each rap a blast
From the horns of hell,—
No such warning had they
At the Tour de Nesle.

Were not death more welcome
—Last of mortal ills—
In a shower of kisses
Than—a box of pills?