Through gilded trellises

Through gilded trellises

Of the heat, Dolores,

Inez, Manuccia,

Isabel, Lucia,

Mock Time that flies.

"Lovely bird, will you stay and sing,

Flirting your sheened wing,-

Peck with your beak, and cling

To our balconies?"

They flirt their fans, flaunting

"O silence enchanting

As music!" Then slanting

Their eyes,

Like gilded or emerald grapes,

They make mantillas, capes,

Hiding their simian shapes.

Sighes

Each lady, "Our spadille

Is done."...Dance the quadrille

from Hell's towers to Seville;

Surprise

Their siesta," Dolores

Said. Through gilded trellises

Of the heat, spangles

Pelt down through the tangles

Of bell flowers; each dangles

Her castanets, shutters

Fall while the heat mutters,

With sounds like a mandoline

Or tinkled tambourine...

Ladies, Time dies!