Show Chloris Chioris On the Stairs I sit beyond the limp portiere Within the foyer cool and shady In full view of the oaken stair stall Down which there com comes coms a a. radiant lady In gown gown of palest lilac tobe tone toe And lilac iliac perfume stealing faintly As If b by gentlest breezes blown prom From garden tree Ah me how ho quaintly Sweet are the fashions nowadays I sit and watch my lady coming I wonder if she feels my gaze The while so absently she's humming That little song of C Comrades Three I watch and wonder can this surely Be my own Chloris Chioris that I see With tresses parted so demurely Above a brow as lily Illy fair fall i As eer oer had any Saxon maiden One might suppose her own grand mere With kerchief patch and power powder r laden Had stepped from out that ancient frame Above her there upon the landing anding The hair hall the eyes the gowns gown's the same Tho The same same the birdlike poise In standing But no I see a shining ring Upon Miss 1 Chloriss Chloris's tipped pink-tipped finger I put It there there but but will sho she sing And on the stairs forever linger She stops before a panel glass glassAnd And toward her sweet reflection leans While dainty fingers deftly pass Oer O'er frills of ot Valenciennes And I sit in hazy dreams Of angels from the tho skies descending In lilac Iliac gowns with golden gleams On oaken stairs that have no ending Marg Margaret ret Holmes Bates in Modern Cul Cul- ture |