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Dora Williams

by
 When Reuben Pantier ran away and threw me
I went to Springfield.
There I met a lush, Whose father just deceased left him a fortune.
He married me when drunk.
My life was wretched.
A year passed and one day they found him dead.
That made me rich.
I moved on to Chicago.
After a time met Tyler Rountree, villain.
I moved on to New York.
A gray-haired magnate Went mad about me -- so another fortune.
He died one night right in my arms, you know.
(I saw his purple face for years thereafter.
) There was almost a scandal.
I moved on, This time to Paris.
I was now a woman, Insidious, subtle, versed in the world and rich.
My sweet apartment near the Champs Élysées Became a center for all sorts of people, Musicians, poets, dandies, artists, nobles, Where we spoke French and German, Italian, English.
I wed Count Navigato, native of Genoa.
We went to Rome.
He poisoned me, I think.
Now in the Campo Santo overlooking The sea where young Columbus dreamed new worlds, See what they chiseled: "Contessa Navigato Implora eterna quiete.
"

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