Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/87

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THE DEATH OF MARIE TORO
85

Oh votaries of velvet vice!… Oh gods of light divine!


Oh Baudelaire, Verlaine and Wilde, they knew the sinks of shame;
Their sun-aspiring wings they scorched at passion’s altar flame;
Yet lo! enthroned, enskied they stand, Immortal Sons of Fame.


I dreamed I saw three demi-gods who walked with feet of clay,
With cruel crosses on their backs, along a miry way;
Who climbed and climbed the bitter steep to which men turn and pray.

And while I am on the subject of the Quarter, let me repeat this, which is included in my Ballads of the Boulevards:

THE DEATH OF MARIE TORO

We’re taking Marie Toro to her home in Père-La-Chaise;
We’re taking Marie Toro to her last resting-place.
Behold! her hearse is hung with wreaths till everything is hid
Except the blossoms heaping high upon her coffin lid.
A week ago she roamed the street, a draggle and a slut,
A by-word of the Boulevard and everybody's butt;