(Marie Antoinette walked down the steps of a certain
Chapel on her way to the guillotine.)
They say a queen once walked along the marble steps
with grace,
To meet grim death by guillotine--a smile was on
her face,
A smile of scorn that lifted her above the howling
crowd,
A smile that mocked at pallid fear--a smile serene
and proud.
Yes, it was Marie Antoinette--she walked with
steady tread,
She sauntered down the marble steps with proudly
lifted head;
And there were those among the crowd who watched
with indrawn breath,
To see a queen walk out with smiles to keep a tryst
with death!
I stood beside those marble steps just yesterday, and
saw,
A bride upon a soldier's arm--a poilu brave who
wore
A Croix de Guerre upon his breast--and oh, they
smiled above
The busy throng that hurried by, unconscious of their
love.
And though, across the mist of years, I glimpsed a
fair queen's face,
A face that smiled, but scornfully, above her land's
disgrace--
I will remember, on those steps, the little new-made
wife,
Who came, her eyes all filled with trust, to keep
her tryst with life.