When Bandorlan Epee's about,
The gallants smirk and bow;
They titter in behind their hands,
And vow
That now;
That every now and every then,
They'll call Epee effete;
And so they titter in their sleeves,
And tap their buckled feet.
They speak of Bandorlan Epee,
As if he were a pup;
They curl the lip and fingers flick,
And sup
Their cup;
With every cup of wine they sip,
They toast with irony,
The dainty youth; the slender sprig
Who calls himself Epee.
He's tall and slim, is Bandorlan,
My mother thinks him fine;
His lace jabot is silver pinned
Design
To shine
It shines with crafty filigree;
The buckle in his hair,
Is made the same in harmony
It's bright beyond compare.
The dandies laugh their winecups dry,
And sneer at pretty boys,
And Bandorlan Epee; he smiles
With poise
And toys
He toys with all their prejudice,
And plays the foolish beau;
But there's another side to him
The gallants cannot know.
Bandorlan Epee was born
In times of long ago,
His laughter brought the stars alight
To know,
Their glow
The glowing of the special sparks,
You see about him still;
The stars adorn his lace jabot
And twinkle at his will.
Young Epee is old as time,
The lace he wears was made;
By misty formless demifays
Inlaid
With shade
The shade was fading from the dark,
As Bandorlan arose,
And stepped across the pearline skies
In sunrise-coloured hose.
And why is Bandorlan Epee
Disporting with the ton?
In smoky parlours faro-lost
Or won
To shun?
The age of men has beckoned him,
To supernatural sports;
His masquerade amuses him
As novelty he courts.
And when the gallants seek to strike
The upstart with their spite,
Then Bandorlan will laugh and go,
Tonight
His flight
Will set the gossips wondering
And bruise a foolish heart,
When Epee goes I'll sigh for him
(He knew that from the start).
But Bandorlan is not a man-
Despite the form assumed,
And mortal life's designed to be
Consumed,
Entombed;
Perhaps one day, a million years
Beyond this life's degree;
Bandorlan may flick a star-
And then remember me.
The gallants smirk and bow;
They titter in behind their hands,
And vow
That now;
That every now and every then,
They'll call Epee effete;
And so they titter in their sleeves,
And tap their buckled feet.
They speak of Bandorlan Epee,
As if he were a pup;
They curl the lip and fingers flick,
And sup
Their cup;
With every cup of wine they sip,
They toast with irony,
The dainty youth; the slender sprig
Who calls himself Epee.
He's tall and slim, is Bandorlan,
My mother thinks him fine;
His lace jabot is silver pinned
Design
To shine
It shines with crafty filigree;
The buckle in his hair,
Is made the same in harmony
It's bright beyond compare.
The dandies laugh their winecups dry,
And sneer at pretty boys,
And Bandorlan Epee; he smiles
With poise
And toys
He toys with all their prejudice,
And plays the foolish beau;
But there's another side to him
The gallants cannot know.
Bandorlan Epee was born
In times of long ago,
His laughter brought the stars alight
To know,
Their glow
The glowing of the special sparks,
You see about him still;
The stars adorn his lace jabot
And twinkle at his will.
Young Epee is old as time,
The lace he wears was made;
By misty formless demifays
Inlaid
With shade
The shade was fading from the dark,
As Bandorlan arose,
And stepped across the pearline skies
In sunrise-coloured hose.
And why is Bandorlan Epee
Disporting with the ton?
In smoky parlours faro-lost
Or won
To shun?
The age of men has beckoned him,
To supernatural sports;
His masquerade amuses him
As novelty he courts.
And when the gallants seek to strike
The upstart with their spite,
Then Bandorlan will laugh and go,
Tonight
His flight
Will set the gossips wondering
And bruise a foolish heart,
When Epee goes I'll sigh for him
(He knew that from the start).
But Bandorlan is not a man-
Despite the form assumed,
And mortal life's designed to be
Consumed,
Entombed;
Perhaps one day, a million years
Beyond this life's degree;
Bandorlan may flick a star-
And then remember me.