Adelaide Crapsey

Pierrot

 Next Poem          

For Aubrey Beardsley's picture

"Pierrot is dying"


Pierrot is dying:

Tiptoe in,

Finger touched to lip,

Harlequin,

Columbine and Clown.


Hugh! how still he lies

In his bed,

White slipped hand and white

Sunker head.

Oh, poor Pierrot.


There's his dressing gown

Across the chair,

Slippers in the floor. . .

Can he hear

Us who tiptoe in?


Pillowed high he lies

In his bed;

Listen Columbine.

"He is dead."

Oh, poor Pierrot.

Next Poem 

 Back to
Adelaide Crapsey