Myrtilla, to-night,
Wears Jacqueminot roses.
She's the loveliest sight!
Myrtilla to-night:—
Correspondingly light
My pocket-book closes.
Myrtilla, to-night
Wears Jacqueminot roses.
Charles Henry Luders [1858-1891]
TWO TRIOLETS
What he said:—
This kiss upon your fan I press—
Ah! Sainte Nitouche, you don't refuse it!
And may it from its soft recess—
This kiss upon your fan I press—
Be blown to you, a shy caress,
By this white down, whene'er you use it.
This kiss upon your fan I press,—
Ah, Sainte Nitouche, you don't refuse it!
What she thought:—
To kiss a fan!
What a poky poet!
The stupid man
To kiss a fan
When he knows—that—he—can—
Or ought to know it—
To kiss a fan!
What a poky poet!
Harrison Robertson [1856-
THE BALLAD OF DEAD LADIES
From The French Of Francois Villon 1450