To The Goddess Of Fame

Hail, thou barmaid slovenly, Stagg’ring like fish-wife drunkenly; Where the dickens dost thou stay, With thy stock of haloes, pray? Was it on credit thou gavest one To the thief of Versailles, that Corsican? Perhaps now thou’rt whispering in some fellow’s ear; And all because of boredom or beer.

Come then awhile with me to lodge, Fondly, together, trouble we’ll dodge. With a smack and a kiss This dreary weather, Let’s make a bargain to live together. Thou’rt a painted queen with manners free, Yet in thy company I’d gladly be.

What though thou holdest thy nose in air, Dancest in barrooms with kings at a fair; And most with that chap they call the Tsar; Still that’s no bother, thy stock’s still at par.

Come, my dear, make haste to me, Let me have a look at thee; Bestow on me a little smile, ’Neath thy bright wings I’d rest a while.