English poem
BALLADE OF QUEEN ANNE.
by Andrew Lang
The modish Airs, The Tansey Brew, The Swains and Fairs In curtained Pew; Nymphs KNELLER drew, Books BENTLEY read,— Who knows them, who? QUEEN ANNE is dead!
We buy her Chairs, Her China blue, Her red-brick Squares We build anew; But ah! we rue, When all is said, The tale o'er-true, QUEEN ANNE is dead!
Now Bulls and Bears,. A ruffling Crew, With Stocks and Shares, With Turk and Jew, Go bubbling through The Town ill-bred: The World's askew, QUEEN ANNE is dead!
Friend, praise the new; The old is fled: Vivat FROU-FROU! QUEEN ANNE is dead!