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; [[142]]

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.