The Red, Red Lips

The red, red lips With the sweet words And a face Powdered, creamed, Appleyish and collyrium-applied Touch the heart Whenever I see her And she before me sitting, Sitting and smiling, Sitting and smiling sweetly, A theatre persona, A maiden so shy and coy But not less than an art model The source of my inspiration. The portrait of an artist as A young woman, She sitting before me And I making a portrait of hers, My art model before me And I singing the folk song Scripted, giving tone to the words, My mistress as she appeared When I met her.