It seems (as Monsieur told the story)
That LOUIS the Fourteenth,--that glory,
That _Coryphee_ of all crowned pates,--
That pink of the Legitimates--
Had, when, with many a pious prayer, he
Bequeathed unto the Virgin Mary
His marriage deeds, and _cordon bleu_,
Bequeathed to her his State Wig too--
(An offering which, at Court, 'tis thought,
The Virgin values as she ought)--
That Wig, the wonder of all eyes,
The Cynosure of Gallia's skies,
To watch and tend whose curls adored,
Re-build its towering roof, when flat,
And round its rumpled base, a Board
Of sixty barbers daily sat,
With Subs, on State-Days, to assist,
Well pensioned from the Civil List:--
That wondrous Wig, arrayed in which,
And formed alike to awe or witch.
He beat all other heirs of crowns,
In taking mistresses and towns,
Requiring but a shot at _one_,
A smile at _t'other_, and 'twas done!--
"That Wig" (said Monsieur, while his brow
Rose proudly,) "is existing now;--
"That Grand Perruque, amid the fall
"Of every other Royal glory,
"With curls erect survives them all,
"And tells in every hair their story.
"Think, think, how welcome at this time
"A relic, so beloved, sublime!
"What worthier standard of the Cause
"Of Kingly Right can France demand?
"Or who among our ranks can pause
"To guard it, while a curl shall stand?
"Behold, my friends"--(while thus he cried,
A curtain, which concealed this pride
Of Princely Wigs was drawn aside)
"Behold that grand Perruque--how big
"With recollections for the world--
"For France--for us--Great Louis's Wig,
"By HIPPOLYTE new frizzed and curled--
"_New frizzed_! alas, 'tis but too true,
"Well may you start at that word _new_--
"But such the sacrifice, my friends,
"The Imperial Cossack recommends;
"Thinking such small concessions sage,
"To meet the spirit of the age,
"And do what best that spirit flatters,
"In Wigs--if not in weightier matters.
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