Classic Poem

I.

All in the town of Tunis,
In Africa the torrid,
On a Frenchman of rank
Was play'd such a prank,
As Lepaux must think quite horrid.

II.

No story half so shocking,
By kitchen fire, or laundry,
Was ever heard tell, —
As that which befell
The great Jean Bon Saint Andre.

III.

Poor John was a gallant Captain,
In battles much delighting;
He fled full soon.
On the First of June —
But he bade the rest keep fighting.

IV.

To Paris then returning,
And recover'd from his panic,
He translated the plan,
Of Paine's Rights of Man ,
Into language Mauritanic.

V.

He went to teach at Tunis —
Where as Consul he was settled —
Amongst other things,
" That the people are kings! "
Whereat the Dey was nettled.

VI.

The Moors being rather stupid,
And in temper somewhat mulish,
Understood not a word
Of the Doctrine they heard,
And thought the Consul foolish.

VII.

He form'd a Club of Brothers ,
And moved some resolutions —
" Ho! Ho! (says the Dey),
" So this is the way
" That the French make Revolutions . "

VIII.

The Dey then gave his orders
In Arabic and Persian —
" Let no more be said —
" But bring me his head! —
" These Clubs are my aversion. "

IX.

The Consul quoted Wicquefort,
And Puffendorf and Grotius;
And proved from Vattel,
Exceedingly well,
Such a deed would be quite atrocious.

X.

'Twould have moved a Christian's bowels
To hear the doubts he stated; —
But the Moors they did:
As they were bid,
And strangled him while he prated.

XI.

His head, with a sharp-edged sabre,
They sever'd from his shoulders,
And stuck it on high,
Where it caught the eye,
To the wonder of all beholders.

XII.

This sure is a doleful story
As e'er you heard or read of; —
If at Tunis you prate
Of matters of state,
Anon they cut your head off!

XIII.

But we hear the French Directors
Have thought the point so knotty;
That the Dey having shewn
He dislikes Jean Bon,
They have sent him Bernadotte.