The Cordon Bleu.
(On the departure of M. Alexis Soyer
for the Crimea, July 1855.)
The Cordon Bleu to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you’ll find him:
His snow white apron is girded on,
And his magic Stove’s behind him.
“Army beef” said the Cordon Bleu,
“Though a stupid bungler slays thee,
One skilful hand thy steaks shall stew,
One artist’s pan shall braise thee.”