Of the languorous South with her wine-stained mouth,
And her easy ways, I sing.
Ah! see where she stands, my lady of lands,
With a rose in her hair and a gracious air,
Where her lovers cling.
Will she play me false for the promised waltz,
In that easiest way of hers?
Ah see! she is fair as the rose in her hair,
And the sweet love drips from her honied lips,
When her fancy stirs.
Will she lightly resist for the promised tryst
With a smile of her easy ways?
Ah see! she is smiling with a sweetness beguiling
All sorrow to laughter till it dances thereafter
In a golden maze.
Alas! alack-a-day! she dances away!
Haphazard her favor confers.
Ah! see where she dances, and her sunlit glances
All scattered apart! But I store in my heart
A smile of hers.