She will jilt a lover, When gray is this head; And lead a husband by the nose When I am dead. No toil shall ever stain her, All pleasure shall she prove, And cruelly spread 'round her The old illusion, love. For I was trapped and taken Many a time, that way; How easily can woman Man's weakest trait betray! You young men of the future, She now shall show you all What silly slaves of habit You are, when instincts call: Yes, she shall bear you captive In chains of bitter rue, To me, the only lover Whose will she chose to do! She will be jilting lovers, When grey is this head; And lead a husband by the nose When I am dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER TO SON by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES THE MORAL FABLES: THE TALE OF THE COCK, AND THE JEWEL by AESOP THE BALLAD OF BAZILE BORGNE by IDA COLE BARTLATT RECOLLECTINS OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SHOOTING STAR AT HARVEST by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |