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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508259" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cocotte</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When a girl's sixteen, and as poor as she's pretty,<br> And she hasn't a friend and she hasn't a home,<br>Heigh-ho! She's as safe in Paris city<br> As a lamb night-strayed where the wild wolves roam;<br>And that was I; oh, it's seven years now<br> (Some water's run down the Seine since then),<br>And I've almost forgotten the pangs and the tears now,<br> And I've almost taken the measure of men.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, I found me a lover who loved me only,<br> Artist and poet, and almost a boy.<br>And my heart was bruised, and my life was lonely,<br> And him I adored with a wonderful joy.<br>If he'd come to me with his pockets empty,<br> How we'd have laughed in a garret gay!<br>But he was rich, and in radiant plenty<br> We lived in a villa at Viroflay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then came the War, and of bliss bereft me;<br> Then came the call, and he went away;<br>All that he had in the world he left me,<br> With the rose-wreathed villa at Viroflay.<br>Then came the news and the tragic story:<br> My hero, my splendid lover was dead,<br>Sword in hand on the field of glory,<br> And he died with my name on his lips, they said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So here am I in my widow's mourning,<br> The weeds I've really no right to wear;<br>And women fix me with eyes of scorning,<br> Call me &quot;cocotte&quot;, but I do not care.<br>And men look at me with eyes that borrow<br> The brightness of love, but I turn away;<br>Alone, say I, I will live with Sorrow,<br> In my little villa at Viroflay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And lo! I'm living alone with Pity,<br> And they say that pity from love's not far;<br>Let me tell you all: last week in the city<br> I took the metro at Saint Lazare;<br>And the carriage was crowded to overflowing,<br> And when there entered at Chateaudun<br>Two wounded poilus with medals showing,<br> I eagerly gave my seat to one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You should have seen them: they'd slipped death's clutches,<br> But sadder a sight you will rarely find;<br>One had a leg off and walked on crutches,<br> The other, a bit of a boy, was blind.<br>And they both sat down, and the lad was trying<br> To grope his way as a blind man tries;<br>And half of the women around were crying,<br> And some of the men had tears in their eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How he stirred me, this blind boy, clinging<br> Just like a child to his crippled chum.<br>But I did not cry. Oh no; a singing<br> Came to my heart for a year so dumb,<br>Then I knew that at three-and-twenty<br> There is wonderful work to be done,<br>Comfort and kindness and joy in plenty,<br> Peace and light and love to be won.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, thought I, could mine eyes be given<br> To one who will live in the dark alway!<br>To love and to serve -- 'twould make life Heaven<br> Here in my villa at Viroflay.<br>So I left my poilus: and now you wonder<br> Why to-day I am so elate. . . .<br>Look! In the glory of sunshine yonder<br> They're bringing my blind boy in at the gate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508259" data-title="Cocotte de Robert William Service" data-description="When a girl's sixteen, and as poor as she's pretty,
 And she hasn't a friend and she hasn't a home,
Heigh-ho! She's as safe in Paris city
 As a lamb night-strayed where the wild wolves roam;
And that was I; oh, it's seven years now
 (Some water's ..."></div>
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