Classic Poem

Old Mother Earth was close-fisted so long
When May came on with “dépense remarquable”;
And the world is joy, and laughter, and song;
But for laughter—“Je n'en suis plus capable.”

The bells are chiming, the flowers they grow,
The birds they chatter, “comme dans une fable”;
But in all their chatter no pleasure I know,
For all is to me “une affaire misérable.”

Still all mankind seems sad and shady,
Even my friend, “autrefois passable,”
Because they now style and intitle “My Lady”
My sweetest love, “si douce et aimable.”