Dora Williams

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, d in the world and rich.
 My sweet apartment near the Champs Elysees
 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."