Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/174

Gay butterflies the girls adore,
And wasps with waists that taper;
None escape my watchful sight,
I arrest them in their flight,
Sudden and sharp them down I smite,
And fix them on my paper.

My songs and merry roundelays
And ballads with them are ablaze!
As I arrange them in all ways
How prettily they glitter!
Now in long collars are they set,
And now they dance a pirouette,
Like waves or coryphées coquette,
And like the finches twitter.

All obstacles, no matter what,
Must yield before the acrobat;
And I am that and only that,
No poet great or gifted.
But I can rhymes with ease coerce,
And verse precipitate on verse,
Like balls that cross, unite, disperse,
By jugglers deftly shifted.

Look at my chariot and my team!
When on these steeds the sun-rays gleam,
Apollo's own they almost seem,
And well may critics wonder!
I love their long, long rapid strides,
Their tossing manes, their glossy sides!
Away! Their speed the winds deride
When slack-reined on they thunder!