Nor were the fears, that thus astounded
My loyal soul, at all unfounded--
For, lo! ere long, those walls so massy
Were seized with an ill-omened dripping,
And o'er the floors, now growing glassy,
Their Holinesses took to slipping.
The Tsar, half thro' a Polonaise,
Could scarce get on for downright stumbling;
And Prussia, tho' to slippery ways
Well used, was cursedly near tumbling.
Yet still 'twas, _who_ could stamp the floor most,
Russia and Austria 'mong the foremost.--
And now, to an Italian air,
This precious brace would, hand in hand, go;
Now--while old Louis, from his chair,
Intreated them his toes to spare--
Called loudly out for a Fandango.
And a Fandango, 'faith, they had,
At which they all set to, like mad!
Never were Kings (tho' small the expense is
Of wit among their Excellencies)
So out of all their princely senses,
But ah! that dance--that Spanish dance--
Scarce was the luckless strain begun,
When, glaring red, as 'twere a glance
Shot from an angry Southern sun,
A light thro' all the chambers flamed,
Astonishing old Father Frost,
Who, bursting into tears, exclaimed,
"A thaw, by Jove--we're lost, we're lost!
"Run, France--a second _Water_loo
"Is come to drown you-_sauve qui peut_!"
Why, why will monarchs caper so
In palaces without foundations?--
Instantly all was in a flow,
Crowns, fiddles, sceptres, decorations--
Those Royal Arms, that lookt so nice,
Cut out in the resplendent ice--
Those Eagles, handsomely provided
With double heads for double dealings--
How fast the globes and sceptres glided
Out of their claws on all the ceilings!
Proud Prussia's double bird of prey
Tame as a spatch cock, slunk away;
While--just like France herself, when she
Proclaims how great her naval skill is--
Poor Louis's drowning fleurs-de-lys
Imagined themselves _water_-lilies.
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