Chicken-skin, delicate, white, Painted by Carlo Vanloo, Loves in a riot of light, Roses and vaporous blue; Hark to the dainty frou-frou! Picture above, if you can, Eyes that could melt as the dew,-- This was the Pompadour's fan! See how they rise at the sight, Thronging the OEil de Boeuf through, Courtiers as butterflies bright, Beauties that Fragonard drew, Talon-rouge, falaba, queue, Cardinal, duke, -- to a man, Eager to sigh or to sue,-- This was the Pompadour's fan! All, but things more than polite Hung on this toy, voyez-vous! Matters of state and of might, Things that great ministers do; Things that, maybe, overthrew Those in whose brains they began;-- Here was the sign and the cue,-- This was the Pompadour's fan! Where are the secrets it knew? Weavings of plot and of plan?-- But where is the Pompadour, too? This was the Pompadour's fan! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VICTORY BELLS by GRACE HAZARD CONKLING THE AIM WAS SONG by ROBERT FROST MOUNTAIN PICTURES: 2. MONADNOCK FROM WACHUSETT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER PRAYER TO THE VIRGIN OF CHARTRES by HENRY BROOKS ADAMS AUTUMN TINTS by MATHILDE BLIND PAN IN PANDEMONIUM by BERTON BRALEY EPIGRAM ON A ROPE-MAKER HANGED by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE POET AND THE BIRD; A FABLE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |