Maréchal Niel

BEFORE those counterscarps of lace,
Which offer such undreamed resistance,
I have so fallen into disgrace,
O Marshal, that I crave assistance.
In vain I send my Jacqueminot
Each day to speak her fair and tender ;
With scornful lip the lovely foe
Each day refuses to surrender.
I cry you help, O flower of knights,
Upon my bended knee I sue it;
If any man can scale those heights,
You, Marshal, you’re the man can do it!
To plant above that heart of steel
(In front of which I bend despairing)
Your golden ensign — Marshal Niel,
It were a venture worth your daring!
T. B. Aldrich.