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Cyrano de Bergerac

Rostand picked up your old book, Cyrano, And only blew the dust off your name

When Paris as you strode it long ago

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Leapt into light, rekindling your flame:

Swaggering Gascon, fierce foe, tender friend,

Poet and soldier, first man from the moon,

Withholding your long love until the end

Of court gazette, end of an afternoon -

Gallant and gifted, yet humiliated

By your own profile on the garden wall

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(Coquelin, Hampden, Ferrer recreated

Nightly the nose you could not bear at all) -

Roxanne too late saw past your friendship's bars.

Windmills had swung, and flung you to the stars.

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