Classic Poem

Adieu, chansons!

'Twas in my garland just to make the flowers more freshly blow,
Some tender, wise, or witty song, I was, not long ago,
About to sing, when all at once the Fairy reappeared,
Who in the good old tailor's shop mine infancy had cheered
" Winter, " she cried, " upon thine head hath breathed his chilling blast;
Then for thine evenings, long and cold, some shelter seek at last:
A score of years of strife and tears thy voice hath worn away,
For only 'mid the tempest's roar that voice would pour its lay. "
Adieu, then, Songs, adieu! for bald and wrinkled is my brow;
All keenly howls the northern blast — the bird is silent now.

" Those days are distant, " she went on, " when every air thy soul
Would modulate, as one key-note can music's tones control;
When lavished was thy gaiety in bright and sudden flame,
Whose lightnings, when the sky was dark, more brilliant went and came
Ah! narrower now the horizon rests in gloominess profound;
Long peals of laughter now no more from joyous friends resound:
How many have preceded thee, and in the tomb are laid!
Lisette herself, alas for her! is nothing but a shade. "
Adieu, then, Songs, adieu! for bald and wrinkled is my brow;
All keenly howls the northern blast — the bird is silent now.

" But be thou grateful for thy lot! The Muse still owes thee thanks,
That of a mighty people she hath moved the lowest ranks:
The song, that to the ravished ear flies with direct appeal,
Hath bruited forth thy verse, which thus the most unlearned feel.
Your orators may speeches make to folks who learned be;
But openly defying kings, 'twas otherwise with thee;
For thou, to couple voices well, in marriage didst aspire
To join some goody's ancient air with accents of the lyre "
Adieu, then, Songs, adieu! for bald and wrinkled is my brow;
All keenly howls the northern blast — the bird is silent now.

" Thy pointed darts against the throne itself launched forth amain,
So soon as they were seen to fall, were gathered up again,
And by the people far and near — whose love for thee is fast —
Back to the object of their aim in chorusses were cast.
Then, when that throne was bold enough its thunderbolt to wield,
Old muskets in Three Days sufficed to drive it off the field:
Of all the shots that thickly there did on its velvet fall
How much of powder must thy Muse have furnished for each ball! "
Adieu, then, Songs, adieu! for bald and wrinkled is my brow;
All keenly howls the northern blast — the bird is silent now.

" Ay, noble was the part that thou in those great days didst play,
When from the booty thou didst turn the victor's eyes away!
These recollections, as a crown that thine old age shall wear,
Will satisfy thee, if old age thou knowest how to bear.
Go then, and let the rising race through thee that history know;
Be thou a pilot to their bark, the rocks and sands to show:
And if, perchance, the pride of France, some day, they help to raise,
Go, in their beams of glory warm thine own declining days! "
Adieu, then, Songs, adieu! for bald and wrinkled is my brow;
All keenly howls the northern blast — the bird is silent now.

Yes, my good Fairy, thou indeed art come in time most meet,
To sound before the poor bard's door the signal of retreat:
Soon for companion shall I have, within my humble cot,
Oblivion — that begets repose, and by it is begot
But at my death, some who have seen our discords running high,
Frenchmen and veterans, to themselves shall say with moistened eye:
" Once shining forth in Heaven at eve that star we can recall,
Though God was pleased to quench its light long time before its fall. "
Adieu, then, Songs, adieu! for bald and wrinkled is my brow;
All keenly howls the northern blast — the bird is silent now.