WHEN I went to the city, Mary McNeely, I meant to return for you, yes I did. But Laura, my landlady's daughter, Stole into my life somehow, and won me away. Then after some years whom should I meet But Georgine Miner from Niles -- a sprout Of the free love, Fourierist gardens that flourished Before the war all over Ohio. Her dilettante lover had tired of her, And she turned to me for strength and solace. She was some kind of a crying thing One takes in one's arms, and all at once It slimes your face with its running nose, And voids its essence all over you; Then bites your hand and springs away. And there you stand bleeding and smelling to heaven! Why, Mary McNeely, I was not worthy To kiss the hem of your robe! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BREAKING by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON SOME ACCOUNT OF A NEW PLAY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM LONG AGO by CLARA EXLINE BOCKOVEN WILD FLOWERS by OLIVE BODA BROWN |