'You must give back,' her mother said, To a poor sobbing little maid, 'All the young man has given you, Hard as it now may seem to do.' ''Tis done already, mother dear!' Said the sweet girl, 'So, never fear.' Mother. Are you quite certain? Come, recount (There was not much) the whole amount. Girl. The locket: the kid gloves. Mother. Go on. Girl. Of the kid gloves I found but one. Mother. Never mind that. What else? Proceed. You gave back all his trash? Girl. Indeed. Mother. And was there nothing you would save? Girl. Everything I could give I gave. Mother. To the last little? Girl. Even to that. Mother. Freely? Girl. My heart went pit-a-pat At giving up ... ah me! ah me! I ory so I can hardly see... All the fond looks and words that passed, And all the kisses, to the last. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG FOR THE FIRST OF THE MONTH by DOROTHY PARKER TO WHISTLER, AMERICAN; ON LOAN EXHIBIT OF PAINTINGS AT TATE GALLERY by EZRA POUND LITTLE SNAIL by HILDA CONKLING ON COMMUNISTS; EPIGRAM by EBENEZER ELLIOTT ON VISITING THE TOMB OF BURNS by JOHN KEATS EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: A DEAD STATESMAN by RUDYARD KIPLING |