Explore "The Flowers of Evil" by Charles Pierre Baudelaire on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It could ne'er be those beauties of ivory vignettes; / The varied display of a worthless age, / Nor puppet-like figures with castonets, / That ever an heart like mine could engage.
I leave to Gavarni, that poet of chlorosis, / His hospital-beauties in troups that whirl, / For I cannot discover amid his pale roses / A flower to resemble my scarlet ideal.