To Mme. Bernhardt

    My dear Madame Bernhardt, -
    I have been very nigh addressing this ode
    To the winner of the Derby.
    But, on second thoughts, I said,
    "No, no - never!"
    (Non, non, jamais, in fact.)
    "Not while we have in our midst
    One of whom I wot,
    For is it meet
    That the charming Mme. Bernhardt
    Should return to her interesting country
    Possessed of the impression that the bas Anglais
    Have a greater feeling for le sport
    Than for the arts dramatiques,
    Or whatever you call 'em?
    Non, non, a thousand times, non!"
    Ah, Madame, believe me,
    I love my country -
    La patrie, la patrie, la patrie, you know:
    It is a fine country when you understand it,
    And I would have my beautiful Bernhardt
    Take away with her
    Nothing but splendid memories of it.
    I was exceedingly glad
    To read in the papers the other morning
    That in the opinion of the critics dramatiques Anglais,
    Or whatever you call 'em,
    Madame had done herself proud
    At the Lyceum Theatre the other evening.
    One critic dramatique Anglais,
    Or whatever you call him,
    Wrote of Madame thus:
    "Such passages,
    Wherein the eaglet is borne away
    On a flight of adoration for the dead eagle,
    Recur throughout the play:
    They are, in fact, its keynote,
    And Mme. Bernhardt
    Declaimed them with superb intensity.
    The famous voice has lost its golden notes,
    But its power to thrill remains,
    She runs the gamut of the emotions
    With all the grace and dexterity
    Of
    A
    PROFESSOR."
    Madame Bernhardt,
    You will perceive
    That the critics dramatiques Anglais,
    Or whatever you call 'em,
    Write of nobody
    That they do not adorn;
    My beautiful B.,
    You are a made woman,
    You have all the grace and dexterity
    Of
    A
    PROFESSOR.
    O happiness!
    O crown and fulfilment of a life-time devoted to Ar-rt!
    Your cup, my quenchless one,
    Is at length heaped up,
    Like Benjamin's,
    And it runs over!
    Heaven bless us all!
    And in conclusion, my dear Mme. Bernhardt,
    Will you do me the honour to allow me to explain
    That in the event of any young enthusiast from Paris
    Calling round at any of our newspaper offices
    With a view to getting satisfaction
    From the person who accuses you
    Of having all the skill and dexterity
    Of
    A
    PROFESSOR,
    He (the young enthusiast from Paris)
    Will do himself no good,
    Because in my dear country, dear Madame Bernhardt,
    We do not fight the duel à la cut finger,
    Like gentlemen;
    We merely throw downstairs.