XXI.
For, oh! what's more seductive than vice, when you find
It with youth, beauty, genius, and culture combined!
Sweet "Sirène!" How I yearned—how I burned for her! nay,
I went secretly, silently wasting away!
XXII.
Well, at last I beheld her—it did thus befall:
I was wasting away at the Tomkins's ball,
Half inclined to be sick, in my loathing profound
For the mild goody-goody flirtations all round—
XXIII.
When my hostess said suddenly: "So glad you came,
Tho' you may find us somewhat insipid and tame!
I've a great treat in store for you—turn, and look there!
That's 'Sirène,' who indited 'The Ghoul of Mayfair.'"
XXIV.
Oh! the wild thrill that shot thro' this passionate heart!
There—before me—alone in her glory—apart
From that milksoppy, maudlin, contemptible throng,
Sat the being I'd yearned for and burned for so long!
XXV.
I respectfully gazed one brief moment—but stop!
For particulars, vide design at the top:[1]
She's that sweet, scornful pet in black velvet you see
Near the nice little man in blue goggles. That's me.
- ↑ See picture on preceding page.
