You are fair; oh yes, we know it
Well, Marquise;
For he swore it, your last poet,
On his knees;
And he called all heaven to witness
Of his ballad and its fitness,
"_Belle Marquise!_"
You were everything in _ere_
(With exception of _severe_),--
You were _cruelle_ and _rebelle_,
With the rest of rhymes as well;
You were "_Reine_" and "_Mere d' Amour_";
You were "_Venus a Cythere_";
"_Sappho mise en Pompadour_,"
And "_Minerve en Paravere_";
You had every grace of heaven
In your most angelic face,
With the nameless finer leaven
Lent of blood and courtly race;
And he added, too, in duty,
Ninon's wit and Boufflers's beauty;
And La Valliere's _yeux veloutes_
Followed these;
And you liked it, when he said it
(On his knees),
And you kept it, and you read it,
"_Belle Marquise!_"