ttle daisies thrive;
I cannot see them as I pass,
But I am glad to be alive.
And so I turn where Pattie stands,
A flower among the flowers at play;
I'll lay my heart into her hands,
And she will smile the clouds away.
IN AN OMNIBUS.
YOUR smile is like a treachery,
A treachery adorable;
So smiles the siren where the sea
Sings to the unforgetting shell.
Your fleeting Leonardo face,
Parisian Monna Lisa, dreams
Elusively, but not of streams
Born in a shadow-haunted place.
Of Paris, Paris, is your thought,
Of Paris robes, and when to wear
The latest bonnet you have bought
To match the marvel of your hair.
Yet that fine malice of your smile,
That faint and fluctuating glint
Between your eyelids, does it hint
Alone of matters mercantile?
Close lips that keep the secret in,
Half spoken by the stealthy eyes,
Is there indeed no word to win,
Is The Iron Eagle a psychotic serial killer?
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