Here you will find the Poem A Chicot of poet Muriel Stuart
IN days of ancient history Who were you? Tell me if you know. Between your kisses answer me To-night, Chicot. Were you a faun by Castaly Tracking Urania or Clio? Or a white boy in Arcady Astray, Chicot? Were you a satin-supple page Swinging a curtain to and fro, Chanting some impudent addage Of love, Chicot? Were you the subtlest cardinal That ever blessing did bestow? At Fontarabia did you fall, Fighting, Chicot? Or at some monarch' table set, Did the bells twink at wrist and toe? Were you Brusquet or Dagonet, Or else, Chicot? Something you were of all of these, Wise, gay, serene--that hid below, More sad for all your subtleties, Something, Chicot. You brace your armor well tonight,-- Too well for any blood to flow; You'd not betray in any fight A wound, Chicot! I think you would not flinch beneath Life's whips, but after every blow Stand up again, and set your teeth And smile, Chicot. Weariness waits on wariness, There's leaping flame beneath the snow-- All sorts of things that none would guess Of you, Chicot! Are you a lover? No and yes! Are you a comrade? Yes and no! What are you? Neither more nor less Than just Chicot! Take what a passing poet sings Before to-morrow bids us go, In memory of--many things, And you, Chicot!