Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/115

Rh They’ve groveled at my feet, I’ve pity had for none; I’ve bled them every one. Oh, I’ve had interest for That worthless louis d’or.

But now it’s over; see, I care for no one, me; Only at night sometimes In dreams I hear the chimes Of wedding-bells and see A woman without stain With children at her knee. Ah, how you comfort me, Cocaine!…