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Alfonso Dressing to Wait at Table

 Alfonso is a handsome bronze-hued lad 
Of subtly-changing and surprising parts; 
His moods are storms that frighten and make glad, 
His eyes were made to capture women's hearts.
Down in the glory-hole Alfonso sings An olden song of wine and clinking glasses And riotous rakes; magnificently flings Gay kisses to imaginary lasses.
Alfonso's voice of mellow music thrills Our swaying forms and steals our hearts with joy; And when he soars, his fine falsetto trills Are rarest notes of gold without alloy.
But, O Alfonso! wherefore do you sing Dream-songs of carefree men and ancient places? Soon we shall be beset by clamouring Of hungry and importunate palefaces.

by Claude McKay
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