Any day you’ll find her
A-sunning in the sun!
It’s long after midnight
Her key’s in the lock,
And you never see her chimney smoke
Til past ten o’clock!
She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon,
She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream,
She forgets she borrowed butter
Any pays you back in cream!
Her lawn looks like a meadow,
And if she mows the place
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne’s lace!
If he be lucky; let him twist, and apeFlood, fire, and demon — his adroit designsWill strain to nothing in the strict confinesOf this sweet Order, where, in pious rape,I hold his essence and amorphous shape,Till he with Order mingles and combines.Past are the hours, the years, of our duress,His arrogance, our awful servitude:I have…
But it is winter with your love,The sashes are beset with snow.I light the lamp and lay the cloth,I blow the coals to blaze again;But it is winter with your love,The frost is thick upon the pane..I know a winter when it comes:The leaves are listless on the boughs;I watched your love a little while,And…
Loving not man nor dog;Not money, even; feelingToothache perhaps, but never more than an hour awayFrom skill and novocaine;Making no contacts, dealing with life through Agents, drinkingone cocktail, betting two dollars, wearing raincoats in therain.Betrayed at length by no one but the fogWhispering to the wing of the plane.‘Fountain,’ I have cried to that unbubbling…
here!But ah!—to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!Would that it were day again!—with twilight near!Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do;This or that or what you will is all the same to me;But all the things that I begin I leave before I’m through,—There’s little use in…
I will strew rushesOn my chamber-floor,I will plant bergamotAt my kitchen-door.For the sake of dim thingsThat were once so plainI will set a barrelOut to catch the rain,I will hang an iron potOn an iron crane.Many things be dead and goneThat were brave and gay;For the sake of these thingsI will learn to say,‘An it…
Pity me not for beauties passed awayFrom field and thicket as the the year goes by;Pity me not the waning of the moon,Nor that the ebbing tide goes out to sea,Nor that a man’s desire is hushed so soon,And you no longer look with love on me.This have I known always: Love is no moreThan…
