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Broadside ballad entitled 'The Juste Milieu'




THE juste milieu, the juste milieu,
From France imported neat and new,
Is now the rule on Britain's shore,
And homespun truth is prized no more !
Where once you saw the old true blue,
You now have got the juste milieu.

Who tries the juste milieu to hold,
Renounces all that's free and bold ;
Shuffling and shifting to and fro,
He wont say " yes," he cant say " no,"
But vibrating between the two,
'Tis thus he keeps the juste milieu.

A trimmer still in Church and State,
No theme can rouse his love or hate;
Lukewarm and listless, dull and slow,
A timid friend, a feeble foe ;
He's half with me and half with you,
And cheats us both, this juste milieu.

Out on this garb of fraud and guile,
This shilly-shally, see-saw style!
Give me the man who scorns to sneak,
Can strongly feel and firmly speak,
A manly course will dare pursue,
And spurns this truckling juste milieu.

And see, at last, the scurvy end
That must the trimmer's plans attend !
Between two stools the body's weight
Can find no sure or stable seat?
He totters soon, and, slipping through,
Falls plump upon his juste milieu.

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Probable period of publication: 1830-1840   shelfmark: RB.m.143(178)
Broadside ballad entitled 'The Juste Milieu'
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