University of Virginia Library


173

ANGOT-MANIE.

On Pyrenean mountains,
On Margate's shrimpy sands,
Where Rhine's melodious fountains
Roll down their German bands;
By many a rushing river,
By Neva, Thames, and Seine,
Will none mine ears deliver
From that eternal strain?
“Très jolie—
Peu polie:”
Nothing else where'er I go!
Oh, the bore of it!
Please, no more of it!
Save me from the Dame Angot!
Men will not sing the old songs;
Their name is never heard;
For months they haven't sold songs,
But that familiar word:

174

John, Thomas, Jane, and Mary,
Maid, matron, man, and boy,
The minstrel from the prairie,
The grinder from Savoy,
Shout that ditty in
Every city, in
Every street and every show;
Put a stopper u-
Pon that opera!
And destroy the Dame Angot!
'Frisco, whose portals golden
Let in the golden west,
And all the cities olden,
And all the modernest:
New York, Old York, and Cadiz,
Coomassie, Brixton, Bray,
Ring with the market ladies'
Refrain all night and day!
Oh, ye deities!
In each key it is;
Flute, and organ, and also
Pianoforte tune
Up that naughty tune—
Save us from the dame Angot!
Paris, 1874.
 

Air: “Très jolie—peu polie!”