Say I am too often sad-
Still behold me at your side.
Say I’m neither brave nor young,
Say I woo and coddle care,
Say the devil touched my tongue-
Still you have my heart to wear.
But say my verses do not scan,
And I get me another man!
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He’d have given me rolling lands,
Pearls, to trickle between my hands,Smoldering rubies, to circle my arms.You- you’d only a lilting song,Only a melody, happy and high,You were sudden and swift and strong-Never a thought for another had I.He’d have given me laces rare,Dresses that glimmered with frosty sheen,Shining ribbons to wrap my hair,Horses to draw me, as fine as a…
So let me have the rouge again,
The poor young men, the dear young menThey’ll all be here by noon today.And I shall wear the blue, I think-They beg to touch its rippled lace;Or do they love me best in pink,So sweetly flattering the face?And are you sure my eyes are bright,And is it true my cheek is clear?Young what’s-his-name stayed half…
Tonight my love is sleeping cold
The daisies quicken in the mold,And richer fares the meadow grass.The warding cypress pleads the skies,The mound goes level in the rain.My love all cold and silent lies-Pray God it will not rise again!
I do not like my state of mind;
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,I do not yearn for lovelier lands.I dread the dawn’s recurrent light;I hate to go to bed at night.I snoot at simple, earnest folk.I cannot take the gentlest joke.I find no peace in paint or type.My world is but a lot of tripe.I’m disillusioned, empty-breasted.For what I think,…
The pure and worthy Mrs. Stowe
As mother, wife, and authoress-Thank God, I am content with less!
Into love and out again,
Spare your voice, and hold your pen-Well and bitterly I knowAll the songs were ever sung,All the words were ever said;Could it be, when I was young,Some one dropped me on my head?