Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips, <br />And the mouth so mocking gay, <br />A wanton you to the finger-tips, <br />Who break men's hearts in play; <br />A thing of dust I have striven for, <br />Honour and manhood given for, <br />Headlong to ruin driven for, <br />And this is the last, you say. . . . <br /> <br />Drinking your wine with dainty sips, <br />Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips. <br /> <br />Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips, <br />ong have you held your sway; <br />I have laughed at your merry quips - <br />Now is my time to pay. <br />What we sow we must reap again; <br />When we laugh we must weep again; <br />So to-night we will sleep again, <br />Nor wake until Judgement Day. . . . <br /> <br />'Tis a poisoned wine that your palate lips, <br />Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips. <br /> <br />Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips, <br />Down on your knees and pray; <br />Pray your last ere the moment slips, <br />Pray ere the dark and the terror grips, <br />And the bright world fades away. <br />Pray for the peace and the rest of us: <br />Here comes the Shape in quest of us, <br />Now we must go away. . . . <br /> <br />You and I in the grave's eclipse, <br />Marie Vaux of the painted Lips.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-last-supper-2/
