He was my one and only love;
My world was mirror for his face.
We were as close as hand and glove,
Until he came with smiling grace
To say: ‘We must be wise, my dear.
You are the idol of today,
But I too plan a proud career,–
Let’s kiss and go our way.’
And then he soared to sudden fame,
And even queens applauded him.
A halo glorified his name
That dust of time may never dim.
And me,–I toured golden Brazil,
Yet as gay mobs were cheering me,
The sun seemed black, the brilliance chill,
My triumph mockery.
Today if I should say: ‘Hello!’
He’d say: ‘How are you?’ I’d say: ‘Fine.’
Yet never shall he see the woe,
The wanness of my frail decline.
I love him now and always will.
Oh may his star be long to set!
My Maurice is an idol still,–
What wreaths for Mistinguette!
