The story of his roving eye, You must already know it, Since it has been narrated by Lord Tennyson, the poet; I could a moving tale unfold, But it has been so often told.
But since I wish my friends to see My early education, If Tennyson will pardon me A somewhat free translation, I'll try if something can't be sung In someone else's mother-tongue.
"Cophetua and the Beggar Maid!" So runs the story's title (An explanation, I'm afraid, Is absolutely vital), Express'd, as I need hardly mench: In 4 a.m. (or early) French:--
_Les bras posés sur la poitrine Lui fait l'apparence divine,-- Enfin elle a très bonne mine,-- Elle arrive, ne portant pas De sabots, ni même de bas, Pieds-nus, au roi Cophetua._
_Le roi lors, couronne sur tête, Vêtu de ses robes de fête, Va la rencontrer, et l'arrête. On dit, "Tiens, il y en a de quoi!" "Je ferais ça si c'était moi!" Il saits s'amuser donc, ce roi!_
_Ainsi qu'la lune brille aux cieux, Cette enfant luit de mieux en mieux, Quand même ses habits soient vieux. En voilà un qui loue ses yeux, Un autre admire ses cheveux, Et tout le monde est amoureux._
_Car on n'a jamais vu là-bas Un charme tel que celui-là Alors le bon Cophetua Jure, "La pauvre mendiante, Si séduisante, si charmante, Sera ma femme,--ou bien ma tante!"_
Though, to the ordinary mind, The weight of marriage ties is such That many mere, male, mortals find One wife enough,--if not too much; I see no no reason to abuse A person holding other views.
Though most of us, at any rate, Have not acquired the plural habits, Which we are apt to delegate To Eastern potentates,--or rabbits; We should regard with open mind The more uxoriously inclined.
In Salt Lake City dwells a man Who deems monogamy a myth; (One of that too prolific clan Which glories in the name of Smith); A "Prophet, Seer, and Revelator," With the appearance of a waiter.
This hoary patriarch contrives To thrive in manner most bewild'rin', With close on half a dozen wives, And nearly half a hundred children; And views with unaffrighted eyes The burden of domestic ties.
To him all spouses seem the same-- Each one a model of the Graces; He knows his children all by name, But cannot recollect their faces; A minor point, since, I suppose, Each one has got its popper's nose!