THE STRANGE CASE OF THE MUSICAL COMEDY STAR
Reading edition
The lady cannot sing a note, There is a languor in her throat Beyond all healing, She does not act at all, it seems, Except in early morning dreams— She lacks the feeling. Her feet are pretty, but methinks, The weighty and phlegmatic Sphinx Could trip as lightly— And yet she is a regular, Serene and well established star Who twinkles nightly. And Solomon for all his stir, Had not a single jewel on her, Nor did his capers Procure him even half the space For publication of his face In ancient papers. Her gowns, her furs, her limousines Would catch the eye of stately queens In any city— She cannot sing, or dance or act, But then I have remarked the fact— Her feet are pretty.