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Composer to the King
Jean Baptiste Lully A little ugly man who kept The king awake while Boileau slept, He caught the motes of golden spite The age struck off in music light And elegant as Virtue's war With Love and Wit: a passepied for The flutes and kettledrums, to charm Madame de Montespan, and arm Himself against the cruel ray Of boredom from le Roi Soleil. He flattered to a fine excess, For irony would not impress The lady; and the philosophe, Too dull to hear, kept dozing off. Moliére himself could not dispel The tyranny of time so well; No classic fountain could amuse A mistress sated with the views Mansard arranged: moonlit, sublime, Like décor for a pantomime: Zeus and his goddesses at play Far off along the grande allée. Who else had set the king to dance Like an Egyptian? Now all France Rang with his music. He had fame And wealth. He would become a name To teach the avaricious heart The politics of love and art.