Lapsus Calami (Apr 1891)/Ballade of the Drowning Fusee
For other versions of this work, see Ballade of the Drowning Fusee.
Ballade of the Drowning Fusee.
The pipe I intend to consumeIs full, and fairly alight:It scatters a fragrant perfume,Blue smoke-wreaths are heaving in sightI sink on the heathery height,And lo! there is borne unto meFrom a sweet little stream on my rightThe song of the drowning fusee.
The monarch of waterfowl, whomOn the brink of an infinite nightA strange irresistible doomConverts to a musical wight,Is akin, in his glory's despite,To a moribund match, as we see,While we listen, in speechless delight,To the song of the drowning fusee.
As he sinks in his watery tomb,His epitaph let me indite.He hardly took up any room;His life was retired; his end bright.With destiny no one can fightAll poets and prosers agree,And a tribute to destiny's mightIs the song of the drowning fusee.
Friend! would you be gratified quiteThe first of our poets to be?If so, I advise you to writeThe song of the drowning fusee.
Reflector, Jan., 1889.