Bit of Color

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <p class="center"><span class="huge">A BIT OF COLOR</span></p> <p class="center">[<span class="smcap">Paris, 1896</span>]</p> <span class="giant">O</span><small>H</small>, damsel fair at the Porte Maillot,<br/> With the soft blue eyes that haunt me so,<br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Pray what should I do</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">When a girl like you</span><br/> Bestows her smile, her glance, and her sigh<br/> On the first fond fool that is passing by,<br/> Who listens and longs as the sweet words flow<br/> From her pretty red lips at the Porte Maillot?<br/> <br/> There were lips as red ere you were born,<br/> Now wreathed in smiles, now curled in scorn,<br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">And other bright eyes</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">With their truth and lies,</span><br/> That broke the heart and turned the brain<br/> Of many a tender, lovelorn swain;<br/> But never, I ween, brought half the woe<br/> That comes from the lips at the Porte Maillot.<br/> <br/> A charming picture, there you stand,<br/> A perfect work from a master's hand!<br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">With your face so fair</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">And your wondrous hair,</span><br/> Your glorious color, your light and shade,<br/> And your classic head that the gods have made,<br/> Your cheeks with crimson all aglow,<br/> As you wait for a lover at the Porte Maillot.<br/> <br/> There are gorgeous tints in the jeweled crown,<br/> There are brilliant shades when the sun goes down;<br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">But your lips vie</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">With the western sky,</span><br/> And give to the world so rare a hue<br/> That the painter must learn his art anew,<br/> And the sunset borrow a brighter glow<br/> From the lips of the girl at the Porte Maillot.<br/> <br/> Come, tell me truly, fair-haired youth,<br/> Do her eyes flash love, her lips speak truth?<br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">Or does she beguile</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 3em;">With her glance and smile,</span><br/> And burn you, spurn you all day long<br/> With a Circe's art and a Siren's song?<br/> Ah! would that your foolish heart might know<br/> The lie in the heart at the Porte Maillot! <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />