Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 36.djvu/127

He swore in eight days he'd appear,
And strive to make the matter clear;
Then for this favor unexpected,
Thanked Bertha, and went out dejected.
Then thus the matter he debated
Thus he his difficulty stated;
How can I in plain terms declare
What 'tis that pleases all the fair,
And not her majesty offend?
She mars what she proposed to mend.
Since to be hanged must be my lot,
Would I'd been hanged upon the spot.
Robert, whene'er in road or street,
He chanced a wife or maid to meet,
Her he in urgent manner pressed
To say what 'twas she loved the best.
All gave evasive answers, none
The real truth would fairly own.
Robert, despairing e'er to hit,
Wished him in hell's profoundest pit.
Seven times the star that rules the year
Had gilded o'er the hemisphere,
When under a refreshing shade,
Which trees with winding boughs had made,
He saw a score of beauties bright,
Who danced in circling mazes light;
Of their rich robes the wavy pride
Their secret beauties scarce could hide.
Soft Zephyr sporting near the fair,
Played in the ringlets of their hair;
On the green turf they lightly danced,
Their feet scarce on its surface glanced.