Pierre Jean de Beranger

Fortune

Rap! rap!--Is that my lass-- Rap! rap!--is rapping there? It is Fortune. Let her pass! I'll not open the door to her. Rap! rap!-- All of my friends are making gay My little room, with lips wine-wet: We only wait for you, Lisette! Fortune! you may go your way. Rap! rap!-- If we might credit half her boast, What wonders gold has in its gift! Well, we have twenty bottles left And still some credit with our host. Rap! rap!-- Her pearls, and rubies too, she quotes, And mantles more than sumptuous: Lord! but the purple's naught to us,-- We're just now taking off our coats. Rap! rap!-- She treats us as the rawest youths, With talk of genius and of fame: Thank calumny, alas, for shame! Our faith is spoiled in laurel growths. Rap! rap!-- Far from our pleasures, we care not Her highest heavens to attain; She fills her big balloons in vain Till we have swamped our little boat. Rap! rap!-- Yet all our neighbors crowd to be Within her ring of promises, Ah! surely, friends! our mistresses Will cheat us more agreeably. Rap! rap!--