John gave the keeper two whole sous,
And Jeanne that smile with which she woos
John Brown to folly. So they lose
The Paris train. But never mind!—
All-Saints are rustling in the wind,
And there’s an inn, a crackling fire—
(It’s deux-cinquante, but Jeanne’s desire);
There’s dinner, candles, country wine,
Jeanne’s lips—philosophy divine!
There was a bosquet at Saint Cloud