Of her unblemished lineaments, a whiteness with no stain,

That she might be that sprightly girl who was trodden by a bird;

And there's a score of duchesses, surpassing womankind,

Or who have found a painter to make them so for pay

And smooth out stain and blemish with the elegance of his mind:

I knew a phoenix in my youth so let them have their day.

[55]

The young men every night applaud their Gaby's laughing eye,

And Ruth St. Denis had more charm although she had poor luck,

From nineteen hundred nine or ten, Pavlova's had the cry,

And there's a player in the States who gathers up her cloak

And flings herself out of the room when Juliet would be bride

With all a woman's passion, a child's imperious way,

And there are—but no matter if there are scores beside:

I knew a phoenix in my youth so let them have their day.

There's Margaret and Marjorie and Dorothy and Nan,

A Daphne and a Mary who live in privacy;

One's had her fill of lovers, another's had but one,

[56]

Another boasts, 'I pick and choose and have but two or three.'

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