UPSTAGE the great high-shafted beefy choir Squawked in 2000 watts of orange glare -- You came, and impudent and deuce-may-care Danced where the gutter flamed with footlight fire. Flung from the roof, spots red and yellow burned And followed you. The blatant brassy clang Of instruments drowned out the words you sang, But goldenly you capered, twirled and turned. Boyish and slender, child-limbed, quick and proud, A sprite of irresistible disdain, Fair as a jonquil in an April rain, You seemed too sweet an imp for that dull crowd.... And then, behind the scenes, I heard you say, "@3O Gawd, I got a hellish cold to-day!@1" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 8 by THOMAS CAMPION ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON [APRIL 6, 1862] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): THE MOVING ROCKS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS TO MRS. MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE PLACE WHERE MAN SHOULD DIE by MICHAEL JOSEPH BARRY |