POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
Between the two of you!) Like Willy's Vagabonde
She knows the Langue Verte—yes, "down to the ground."
Is she selling her soul for a toy of small cost?
Will she cry all night for the thing she has last,
Infantine Blanche?
Too many cups she has handled and wasted,
Too many friendships played with and tasted!
Puritan nomad, hither and thither,
Child to the end—but in the end whither?
Tragic Blanche!
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