Pierrot’s embrace, Guillaume Seignac (c. 1900)
Pierrot, the white face clown
Will lift you up when you’re down
Won’t allow you to be mad
Won’t allow you to be sad
His smile is a magic lure
He’s a lover that’s for sure
He likes ‘yes’, but never ‘no’
His skills so eager to show
Will capture you with his arms
Employing his many charms
If looking for true romance
With Pierrot not a chance
Beware, he is but a rake
For his words of love are fake
Broken Vows, Philip Hermogenes Calderon (1856)
Without seeing, feel love no longer true
His touch not now as it was at the start
Feeling grieving black, not bright sunny blue
The aching pain, crushing my bleeding heart
Needing to know, one day followed his path
Much laughter each enjoying the folly
Would it be correct to display my wrath
Thinking my character it would sully
Without showing anger called him a rake
Said that within me there remains a glow
Asked if what he’s doing be a mistake
His answer being that he did not know
Once felt we were one, now we are apart
Hoping to overcome a broken heart
Toxophilites, William Powell Frith (1872)
An Arrow for a Rake, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Spent, a straight arrow is swift and silent,
When properly placed upon hickory.
With effort soon be master of the hunt,
Able to flick the wings off of a flea.
My prime target should be an easy chore,
Though it moves ever stealthy in the night.
Often found at another’s bedroom door,
Will not be hard to get it in my sight.
The object is an arrow in its heart,
For the deep aching pain it has caused me.
Some will say my actions not very smart,
But will have joy, tho hanging from a tree.
There be nothing worse than my vengeful scorn,
That awful rake shall regret he was born.