The Book of Repulsive Women/To a Cabaret Dancer

A thousand lights had smitten her Into this thing; Life had taken her and given her One place to sing.

She came with laughter wide and calm; And splendid grace; And looked between the lights and wine For one fine face.

And found life only passion wide, Twixt mounth and wine. She ceased to search, and growing wise Became less fine.

Yet some wondrous thing within the mess Was held in check:– Was missing as she groped and clung About his neck.

One master chord we couldn't sound For lost the keys, Yet she hinted of it as she sang Between or knees.

We watched her come with subtle fire And learnet feet, Stumbling among the lustful drunk Yet somehow sweet.

We say the crimson leave her cheeks Flame in her eyes; For when a woman lives in awful haste A woman dies.

The jests that lit our hours by night And made them gay, Soiled a sweet and ignorant soul And foulded its play.

Barriers and heart both broken-dust Beneath her feet. You're passed her forty times and sneered Out in the street.

A thousand jibes had driven her To this at last; Till the ruined crimson of her lips Grew vague and vast.

Until her songless soul admits Time comes to kill; You pay her price and wonder why You need her still.