The political and occasional poems of Winthrop Mackworth Praed ::

Oh was it not a glorious day
For all the mighty nation,
When Charles set out—le bien aimé—
To act his coronation!
All people left their old abodes
To aid the celebration,

And purchased flowers, and studied modes,
In glad anticipation
Of such a day.

Oh who shall sing the motley hordes
Of women and of warriors;
Or count the Counts, or laud the Lords,
Who started from the Barriers!
Canaille was mixed with Cavaliers,
And fair ones jostled farriers,
And gouty limbs and feeble years
Cried shame upon the tarriers
At home that day.

The student started from his books,
The farmer from his stubble;
The belle bestowed upon her looks
Then times her usual trouble;
Monsieur for once forgot to swear
At being made a bubble,
And gaily charged his tabatière,
When conducteurs charged double
Their fare that day.

And there were shouts of deputies
Awaking from the Session,
And Presidents of Colleges
To grace the King's procession;

And mayors of little towns came out
To read their faith's profession,
Which might have been improved, no doubt,
By half an hour's compression
The previous day.

The peasants on the journey showed
Their loyalty was hearty,
By flinging laurels on the road
Before the Royal Party;
They waved old banners to the skies
Inscribed “Non minor Marte,”
And scratched from their transparencies
The name of Bonaparté,
To suit the day.

And right and left upon the way
They made the cannons rattle;
And babes in arms cried out “O gai!
The French have won a battle!”
And rockets flew about like rain,
And frightened all the cattle;
Three dukes were very nearly slain,
Which would have made a tattle
For many a day.

The king, whose steeds had made a start,
Composed the fright he woke in,

And gave of his benignant heart
A most bewitching token:
“Mon Dieu!” the gracious monarch said,
Before the leech had spoken;
“Mon Dieu! Has Damas broke his head?
I wish it had been broken
Some other day!”

But oh, at Rheims, the day before,
A hundred prayers were canted,
And dull addresses mumbled o'er,
And naughty ballads chaunted;
The capital's debauchery
Was all at once transplanted,
And Etienne fils brought eau de vie,
And Vérey's scullion panted
At Rheims that day.

The cool Café, the cabriolet,
Cigars and macaronis,
And Rouge et noir, and eau sucré,
And conversaziones;
The loungers of the Tuileries
Find here their ancient cronies,
And ladies, hot with ecstasies,
May hurry to Tortoni's
For ice to-day.

And Father Paul, the Capuchin,
Is damning all his flock—O!
And pretty little Adeline
Percurrit pulpita socco;
And rich and poor and peer and boor
May find at eight o'clock—O!
“Les premiers soupirs d'Amour”—
Les derniers de Jocko—
Or both, to-day.

So when Apollo from the skies
Drove down his coach and four—O!
He did not leave one pair of eyes
Bedewed in Rheims with sorrow;
While those who could not buy a bed,
And those who could not borrow,
Lay down upon the floor, and said
“I wish it were to-morrow,
And not to-day!”

University of Virginia Library

XII. THE CORONATION OF CHARLES X.

I. THE JOURNEY TO RHEIMS.