 | Last poems including Afterglow and Beyond the sunset |  |
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JACQUES AND SUZETTE
There you sit in a niche together,
Out of the reach of wind and weather,
Looking down on a fierce bronze dragon,
A cloisonné vase, and a gilded flagon,
The opal gleam of a Venice glass,
A chamois climbing an Alpine pass,
An ivory boat from far Japan,
An odorous flask from Ispahan,
And a host of things—
Trifles that last while Life takes wings!
Out of the reach of wind and weather,
Looking down on a fierce bronze dragon,
A cloisonné vase, and a gilded flagon,
The opal gleam of a Venice glass,
A chamois climbing an Alpine pass,
An ivory boat from far Japan,
An odorous flask from Ispahan,
And a host of things—
Trifles that last while Life takes wings!
O chère Suzette, what years have flown
Since you and Jacques were together thrown,
And loved and quarrelled, and loved again—
The old, old fate of dames and men!
But there you sit in your carven shrine,
With never a thought of me or mine,
Even though beset
By your great-great-grandchildren, belle Suzette!
Since you and Jacques were together thrown,
And loved and quarrelled, and loved again—
The old, old fate of dames and men!
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With never a thought of me or mine,
Even though beset
By your great-great-grandchildren, belle Suzette!
Puffed and powdered your golden hair
Gleaming under the rose you wear,
One long, loose curl drooping low
Over your bosom's tender snow;
Arching eyebrows, and smiling lips
Red as the rose the wild bee sips—
Thus, even yet,
I see and I know you, chère Suzette!
Gleaming under the rose you wear,
One long, loose curl drooping low
Over your bosom's tender snow;
Arching eyebrows, and smiling lips
Red as the rose the wild bee sips—
Thus, even yet,
I see and I know you, chère Suzette!
White puffed sleeves and a fall of lace,
Lending your figure girlish grace;
Purple bodice that gems bedeck;
A string of amethysts round your neck;
Plenty of furbelows to show
How you plumed your gay wings long ago,
Lady Suzette,
In the days when youth and pleasure met.
Lending your figure girlish grace;
Purple bodice that gems bedeck;
A string of amethysts round your neck;
Plenty of furbelows to show
How you plumed your gay wings long ago,
Lady Suzette,
In the days when youth and pleasure met.
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But, Grand-père Jacques, with your curled brown wig,
And your broad white kerchief, trim and trig,
Out of which rises your shaven chin,
With your delicate lips and your nostrils thin,
And a certain self-confident, high-bred air,
Smiling and gallant and debonair—
I wonder yet
If she made your heart ache, this Suzette?
And your broad white kerchief, trim and trig,
Out of which rises your shaven chin,
With your delicate lips and your nostrils thin,
And a certain self-confident, high-bred air,
Smiling and gallant and debonair—
I wonder yet
If she made your heart ache, this Suzette?
Or perhaps, monsieur, 'twas the other way;
For she was jealous and you were gay,
And under that frill of falling snow
A passionate heart beat warm, I know
Dear Grand-père Jacques, I doubt if you
Were undeniably good and true;
Did you make her fret,
Though you called her gently, “Ma chère Suzette”?
For she was jealous and you were gay,
And under that frill of falling snow
A passionate heart beat warm, I know
Dear Grand-père Jacques, I doubt if you
Were undeniably good and true;
Did you make her fret,
Though you called her gently, “Ma chère Suzette”?
Ye do not answer, O smiling lips!
From the silent past no answer slips.
Quaint letters more than a century old
Hint at romances that might be told;
But dust and ashes are all who knew
How life fared on between you two,
Jacques and Suzette,
Or how its warp and its woof were set.
From the silent past no answer slips.
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Hint at romances that might be told;
But dust and ashes are all who knew
How life fared on between you two,
Jacques and Suzette,
Or how its warp and its woof were set.
Nay, nay, dear hearts, I will vex you not;
Be your loves, or glad or sad, forgot!
Keep ye your secrets an you will,
Sitting up yonder calm and still,
Side by side in a niche together,
Out of the reach of stormy weather,
And whispering yet,
“Mon ami Jacques!” “Ma chère Suzette!”
Be your loves, or glad or sad, forgot!
Keep ye your secrets an you will,
Sitting up yonder calm and still,
Side by side in a niche together,
Out of the reach of stormy weather,
And whispering yet,
“Mon ami Jacques!” “Ma chère Suzette!”
| Last poems including Afterglow and Beyond the sunset | |