A scroll of fame and frailty that includes All Hamadryads that have ever shone, And nymphs who sell the Satyrs, in the woods Of Boulogne and St. John. And for awhile the study of those plates, Wherein the sylvan beauties were portrayed, Lifted my soul across the Dover straits, Without a Boyton's aid. * * * * * Then swiftly rose another Voice, and burst: "Aye, let them troll your ditties and applaud;-- 'Twas I, Madame, preceded you, I first Called poetry a fraud. "I was Thérésa, and I saw what 'took,' Dropped art, dropped passion; knew you'd had enough; The amorous _Sapeur_ cozening a cook Was all my lay of love. "And court and street took up the strains in glee; I sang to Cæsar, sang to prince and priest, And in the palace of the Medici Roared _Le Petit Ebeniste_." Then clashed the cymbals, and the bugles blew, Vague scents swarmed o'er the visionary stage; A soft sweet shape arose. We looked and knew The Darling of the age. She spoke no word, she had no need to speak; Who could withstand the sorceress--who compete? We knew that matchless smile, and that unique Allurement of the feet; The way so womanly, and yet so bold; Her eyes so frank, her gestures so profane; Her step so light--Ah! no need to be told-- _Voici La Belle Helene_. Evohe, la belle Hélène, fair and fat, And forty, though they say you are, Time's touch Lies soft upon your plumpness--and of that, Say, _can_ one have too much? Oh no, my liege, my gracious Grande Duchesse, However variously our ways incline, You find us all before your sweet address, Natives of Gérolstein. * * * * * This poem proceeds to describe, at considerable length, the leading actresses then appearing in the Paris theatres and music halls. From _Edward VII._, 1876. * * * * * Another parody of the same poem appeared in _The World_, July 23, 1879, from which a few verses are quoted:-- A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. "DREAMING, methought I heard the Laureate's song Of fairest women linked with deeds of shame, Whose burning loves of insult and of wrong Were anguish-paths to fame. "And for a while their sad looks haunt my dream; Then the night-visions slowly fade away, And fairer faces in the warm light gleam-- The beauties of to-day. * * * * * "And around one, supreme in perfect grace, Princes bow down, and nobles gather nigh; And crowds afar off gaze upon her face, Contented there to sigh. * * * * *