"THAT woman there is almost dead, Her feet and hands like heavy lead; Her cat's gone out for his delight, He will not come again this night. "Her husband in a pothouse drinks, Her daughter at a soldier winks; Her son is at his sweetest game, Teasing the cobbler old and lame. "Now with these teeth that powder stones, I'll pick at one of her cheekbones: When husband, son and daughter come, They'll soon see who was left at home." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CALYPSO WATCHING THE OCEAN by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON FRAGMENT OF AN 'ANTIGONE' by MATTHEW ARNOLD ON PLOUGHING by EVELYN D. BANGAY THE CHILD AN' THE MOWERS by WILLIAM BARNES THE FEAST OF THE GODS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 53. FAREWELL TO JULIET (15) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 67. THE THREE AGES OF WOMAN: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |