Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AUX CARMELITES by KATHARINE TYNAN

Poem Explanation

First Line: MADAME LOUISE SLEEPS WELL O' NIGHTS
Subject(s): LOUISE, MADAME;




Madame Louise sleeps well o' nights,
Madame Louise sleeps well o' nights,
Night is still at the Carmelites:
Night is still at the Carmelites:
Down at Versailles
Down at Versailles
The dancers dance, and the violins play.
The dancers dance, and the violins play.

There's a crucifix on the wall at her head,

And a rush chair set by her pallet bed,
There's a crucifix on the wall at her head,
Stony and hard,
And a rush chair set by her pallet bed,
Sweeter than balm or the spikenard.
Stony and hard,
Daughter of France and the King's daughter,
Sweeter than balm or the spikenard.
She hath one poor serge gown to her wear:

And her little feet

Shall naked go in the wind and sleet.
Daughter of France and the King's daughter,
From things that stabbed her cheek to red
She hath one poor serge gown to her wear:
She hath taken her milk-white soul and fled.
And her little feet
Down at Versailles
Shall naked go in the wind and sleet.
The revels go till the break of day.

Sweetly singeth the nightingale

In his screen of boughs while the moon is pale,
From things that stabbed her cheek to red
Sweet and so sweet,
She hath taken her milk-white soul and fled.
That the night-world is faint with it.
Down at Versailles
The roses dream and the lilies wake,
The revels go till the break of day.
While the bird of love with his wild heart-break

Pierceth her dream;

Soft she sighs in the faint moon-beam.
Sweetly singeth the nightingale
And all night long in the dark by her
In his screen of boughs while the moon is pale,
An angel sits with its wings astir,
Sweet and so sweet,
And his hidden eyes
That the night-world is faint with it.
Keeping the secrets of Paradise.

Madame Louise sleeps well o' nights,

Night is still at the Carmelites:
The roses dream and the lilies wake,
Down at Versailles
While the bird of love with his wild heart-break
The dancers dance while the dawn is grey.
Pierceth her dream;

Soft she sighs in the faint moon-beam.



And all night long in the dark by her
An angel sits with its wings astir,
And his hidden eyes
Keeping the secrets of Paradise.


Madame Louise sleeps well o' nights,
Night is still at the Carmelites:
Down at Versailles
The dancers dance while the dawn is grey.




Home: PoetryExplorer.net