Classic Poem

I.

'Tis Louis of Bavaria,
Few beings are so splendid;
In him his people reverence
The monarch king-descended.

A connoisseur, he bids them limn
The fairest women's faces,
And then, as eunuch of the arts,
His painted harem paces.

At Ratisbon a Golgotha
Of marble, builded stable,
He bade them rear, and, for each head,
Himself he wrote the label.

The great " Walhalla Brotherhood " —
A master work — each man is
For soul and deeds and service praised,
From Teut to Schinderhannes.

Luther alone is barred; no word
You'll find, his glory vaunting —
In museums of natural history
The whale is often wanting.

King Louis is a poet great,
And when he sings, Apollo
Drops humbly on his knee, and prays,
" Enough! lest madness follow. "

King Louis is a warrior bold,
Like Otto, his son victorious,
Who, sick at Athens, fouled his throne —
A deed of valour glorious.

And when King Louis dies, at Rome
The Pope will canonise him.
He will look as well as our cat in cuffs,
In the halo they'll devise him.

When monkeys and when kangaroos
In Jesus seek salvation,
King Louis is the patron saint
They'll choose for adoration.

II.

King Louis of Bavaria
Said, sorrowfully sighing,
" The leaves, they fade, the winter's near,
And swift the summer's flying.

" Though Schelling and Cornelius
Forsook me, 'tis no matter;
The former had his reason lost,
His fancy fine, the latter.

" But that my crown's most precious pearl
They stole — ah! that was cruel; —
My master of gymnastic feats,
My Massmann, peerless jewel.

" 'Tis this that has subdued my soul:
With grief has overcome it;
I miss the man who, in his art,
Had reached the highest summit.

" His stumpy legs, his nose so flat,
I shall no more, alas! see;
Nor the somersaults, that gay he turned
Like a poodle in the grass, see.

" German according to Zeune and Grimm
Was all that he was pat in;
In foreign tongues his lore was scant,
He knew nor Greek nor Latin.

" He drank oak-coffee, his patriotism
Was strong and none could quell it;
He devoured the French, and Limbourg cheese:
You could not fail to smell it.

" Give me my Massmann back again,
O brother-in-law! His face is
'Mongst other faces what, 'mongst bards.
My own poetic place is.

" Cornelius keep, O brother-in-law!
And Schelling; (without saying,
'Tis understood that Rückert's thine),
But chide my Massmann's straying.

" Content thee, O my brother-in-law,
With having eclipsed my glory,
And forced on me the minor role
In Germany's proud story. " ...

III.

At Munich, in the Chapel Royal,
A fair Madonna stands;
Her Christ, the joy of earth and heaven,
She cradles in her hands.

When Louis of Bavaria
This holy picture saw,
He knelt and stammered blissfully
With reverence and awe.

" O Mary, Queen of Heaven high!
Princess from blemish free!
Thy courtiers all are saints of God,
And angels wait on thee.

" The wingid pages do thy will,
And in thy golden hair
Twine flower-bands, and, after thee,
Thy trailing robes upbear.

" Mary! thou lily without stain,
Thou pure and morning star!
Oh! many are thy miracles,
And great thy wonders are.

" Then sprinkle, from thy mercies' fount,
One drop upon my face;
On me, most high and blessed one,
Bestow some sign of grace. "

She moves: the lips are moved in prayer
Of Jesus' Mother mild;
Impatiently she shakes her head,
And whispers to her child.

" Oh! well that in my arms thou art,
And not within my womb;
Well that no misadventure now
Thy life unborn can doom.

" For had I, ere my time was come,
Beheld this hateful clod,
To a monster I had given birth,
Instead of to a God! "