With pensive eyes the little room I view, Where, in my youth, I weathered it so long; With a wild mistress, a stanch friend or two, And a light heart still breaking into song: Making a mock of life, and all its cares, Rich in the glory of my rising sun, Lightly I vaulted up four pair of stairs, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. Yes; 'tis a garret--let him know't who will-- There was my bed--full hard it was and small; My table there--and I decipher still Half a lame couplet charcoaled on the wall. Ye joys, that Time hath swept with him away, Come to mine eyes, ye dreams of love and fun; For you I pawned my watch how many a day, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. And see my little Jessy, first of all; She comes with pouting lips and sparkling eyes: Behold, how roguishly she pins her shawl Across the narrow casement, curtain-wise; Now by the bed her petticoat glides down, And when did woman look the worse in none? I have heard since who paid for many a gown, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. One jolly evening, when my friends and I Made happy music with our songs and cheers, A shout of triumph mounted up thus high, And distant cannon opened on our ears: We rise,--we join in the triumphant strain,-- Napoleon conquers--Austerlitz is won-- Tyrants shall never tread us down again, In the brave days when I was twenty-one. Let us begone--the place is sad and strange-- How far, far off, these happy times appear; All that I have to live I'd gladly change For one such month as I have wasted here-- To draw long dreams of beauty, love, and power, From founts of hope that never will outrun, And drink all life's quintessence in an hour, Give me the days when I was twenty-one! ROGER-BONTEMPS. Aux gens atrabilaires Pour exemple donné, En un temps de misères Roger-Bontemps est né. Vivre obscur à sa guise, Narguer les mécontens; Eh gai! c'est la devise Du gros Roger-Bontemps. Du chapeau de son père Coîffé dans les grands jours, De roses ou de lierre Le rajeunir toujours; Mettre un manteau de bure, Vieil ami de vingt ans; Eh gai! c'est la parure Du gros Roger-Bontemps. Posséder dans en hutte Une table, un vieux lit, Des cartes, une flûte, Un broc que Dieu remplit; Un portrait de maîtresse, Un coffre et rien dedans; Eh gai! c'est la richesse Du gros Roger-Bontemps. Aux enfans de la ville Montrer de petite jeux; Etre fesseur habile De contes graveleux; Ne parler que de danse Et d'almanachs chantans: Eh gai! c'est la science Du gros Roger-bontemps. Faute de vins d'élite, Sabler ceux du canton: Préférer Marguerite Aux dames du grand ton: De joie et de tendresse Remplir tous ses instans: Eh gai! c'est la sagesse Du gros Roger-Bontemps.