Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/72

70 She was a Philistine spick and span, He was a bold Bohemian. She had the mode, and the last at that; He had a cape and a brigand hat. She was so riant and chic and trim; He was so shaggy, unkempt and grim. On the rue de la Paix she was wont to shine; The rue de la Gaîté was more his line. She doted on Barclay and Dell and Caine; He quoted Malarmé and Paul Verlaine. She was a triumph at Tango teas; At Vorticist’s suppers he sought to please. She thought that Franz Lehar was utterly great; Of Strauss and Stravinski he’d piously prate. She loved elegance, he loved art; They were as wide as the poles apart: Yet–Cupid and Caprice are hand and glove– They met at a dinner, they fell in love.

Home he went to his garret bare, Thrilling with rapture, hope, despair. Swift he gazed in his looking-glass, Made a grimace and murmured: “Ass!” Seized his scissors and fiercely sheared, Severed his buccaneering beard; Grabbed his hair, and clip! clip! clip! Off came a bunch with every snip. Ran to a tailor's in startled state,