Flowers of Evil

<h3><SPAN name="To_a_Creolean_Lady" id="To_a_Creolean_Lady"></SPAN>To a Creolean Lady</h3> <p class="margin-b"> In a country perfumed with the sun's embrace,<br/> I knew 'neath a dais of purpled palms,<br/> And branches where idleness weeps o'er one's face,<br/> A Creolean lady of unknown charms.<br/> <br/> Her tint, pale and warm&mdash;this bewitching bride,<br/> Displays a nobly nurtured mien,<br/> Courageous and grand like a huntsman, her stride;<br/> A tranquil smile and eyes serene.<br/> <br/> If, madam, you'd go to the true land of gain,<br/> By the banks of the verdant Loire or the Seine,<br/> How worthy to garnish some pile of renown.<br/> <br/> You'd awake in the calm of some shadowy nest,<br/> A thousand songs in the poet's breast,<br/> That your eyes would inspire far more than your brown.<br/></p> <hr style="width: 35%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />