FULL MOON
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The moon is but a silver watch To tell the time of night; If you should wake, and wish to know The hour, don't strike a light. Just draw the blind, and closely scan Her dial in the blue: If it is round and bright, there is A deal more sleep for you. She runs without an error, Not too slow nor too quick, And better than alarum clocks— She doesn't have to tick! |
MY WIFE
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Pure as the moonlight, sweet as midnight air, Simple as the primrose, brave and just and fair, Such is my wife. The more unworthy I To kiss the little hand of her by whom I lie. New words, true words, need I to make you see The gallantry, the graciousness, that she has brought to me; How humble and how haughty, how quick in thought and deed, How loyally she comrades me in every time of need. To-night she is not with me. I kiss her empty dress. Here I kneel beside it, not ashamed to bless Each dear bosom-fold of it that bears a breath of her, Makes my heart a house of pain, and my eyes a blur. Here I kneel beside it, humble now to pray That God will send her back to me on the morrow day. New words, true words, only such could praise The blessèd, blessèd magic of her dear and dauntless ways. |
WASHING THE DISHES
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When we on simple rations sup How easy is the washing up! But heavy feeding complicates The task by soiling many plates. And though I grant that I have prayed That we might find a serving-maid, I'd scullion all my days, I think, To see Her smile across the sink! I wash, She wipes. In water hot I souse each dish and pan and pot; While Taffy mutters, purrs, and begs, And rubs himself against my legs. The man who never in his life Has washed the dishes with his wife Or polished up the silver plate— He still is largely celibate. One warning: there is certain ware That must be handled with all care: The Lord Himself will give you up If you should drop a willow cup! |