From Jules Lemaître
Thy mouth is fresh as cherries on the bough,
Red cherries in the dawning, and more white
Than milk or white camellias is thy brow;
And as the golden corn thy hair is bright,
The corn that drinks the Sun's less fair than thou;
While through thine eyes the child-soul gazeth now--
Eyes like the flower that was Rousseau's delight.*
Sister of sad Ophelia, say, shall these
Thy pearly teeth grow like piano keys
Yellow and long; while thou, all skin and bone,
Angles and morals, in a sky-blue veil,
Shalt hosts of children to the sermon hale,
Blare hymns, read chapters, backbite, and intone?
*The pervenche, or periwinkle.
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