It is untoward that it is vestigal,
It should have been on show for all to see,
Yet the presence was there, always ethereal,
The beauty of fille de l'étoile.
"Ça ne fait rien" is her cry, she doesn't know,
Why we wish she was here,
Erstwhile she came, although evanescent,
Yet no more of fille de l'étoile
