Lisette

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Title:     Lisette
Author: Cale Young Rice [More Titles by Rice]

Oh ... there was love in her heart--no doubt of it--
Under the anger.
But see what came out of it!

Not a knave, he!--A smitten rhyme-smatterer,
Cloaking in languor
And heartache to flatter her.

And just as a woman will--even the best of them--
She yielded--brittle.
God spare me the rest of them!

For! though but kisses--she swore!--he had of her,
Was it so little?
She thought 'twas not bad of her,

Said I would lavish a burning hour-full
On any grisette.
And silenced me, powerful!

But she was mine, and blood is inflammable--
For a Lisette!
My rage was undammable....

Could a stiletto's one prick be prettier?
Look at the gaping.
No?--then you're her pitier!

Pah! she's the better, and I ... I'm your prisoner.
Loose me the strapping--
I'll lay one more kiss on her.

[The end]
Cale Young Rice's poem: Lisette

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