P ARIS sparkles as she lies,
All unbosomed to the sun;
For the prize within her eyes
Battles have been lost and won.
She is haughty, she is vain;
In her arms the serpent Seine,
And with wooing, cooing wiles,
Paris dazzles, Paris smiles.

Paris hath a mighty heart,
Siren of the cities she,
Nobly wedded unto Art,
Music, Marble, Poetry;
Heedless, happy, night and day,
She doth dance the years away.
With her graces and her guiles,
Paris loves, and dreams, and smiles.