When jovial Barras was the Monarch of France,
And its women all lived in the light of his glance,
One eve, when tall Tallien and plump Josephine
Were trying the question, of which should be Queen,
Dame Josephine hung on one side of his chair,
With her West Indian bosom as brown as 'twas bare;
Dame Tallien as fondly on t'other side hung,
With a blush that might burn up the spot where she clung.
Old Sieyes stalked in; saw my lord at his wine,
Now toasting the copper-skin, now the carmine;
Then starting away, cried, "Barras, _le bon soir_;
'Twas for business _I_ came; I leave _you Rouge et Noir_."
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