Author Corinne Roosevelt Robinson There is a land of language exquisite, Where every word may to the gesture fit, A tongue that's fashioned for divine finesse, Each syllable a song or a caress, From that fair land we have with us to-night, Mlle. Dorziat for our delight. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments