Marie Antoinette
At last they looked on your soft hair,
Absurd, imperious, lovely one,
And rode you to the bloody square
At last.
And in that motley there was none
To toy with you and name you fair,
No orange-blossoms and no sun.
Only the scarlet Robespierre,
The ax's kiss and benison
On your white neck and your soft hair
Absurd, imperious, lovely one,
And rode you to the bloody square
At last.
And in that motley there was none
To toy with you and name you fair,
No orange-blossoms and no sun.
Only the scarlet Robespierre,
The ax's kiss and benison
On your white neck and your soft hair
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