On the contrary, she gaily
Went on living, went on dancing
As before, with ardour wooing
For the public’s daily plaudits.
Finally she found a solid
Situation, and provision
For the whole of life, at Paris
In the famed Jardin des Plantes.
When I chanced the other Sunday
With my Juliet to go thither
And expounded Nature to her,
Of the plants and beasts conversing,
Showing the giraffes and cedars
Of Mount Lebanon, the mighty
Dromedary, the gold pheasants,
And the zebra,—as we chatted
It so happen’d that at length we
Stood before the pit’s close railing
Where the bears are all collected,—
Gracious heavens, what saw we there!
An enormous desert-bear
From Siberia, white and hairy,
With a lady-bear was playing
A too-tender game of love there.
And the latter was our Mumma!
Was the wife of Atta Troll!
Well I knew her by the tender
Humid glances of her eye.
Yes, ’twas she! the South’s black daughter!
She it was,—yes, Madame Mumma
With a Russian is now living,
With a Northern wild barbarian!
With a simp’ring face a negro
Who approach’d us, thus address’d me:
“Is there any sight more pleasing
“Than to see two lovers happy?”
I replied: “Pray tell me whom, Sir,
“I’ve the honour of addressing?”
But the other cried with wonder:
“Don’t you really recollect me?