"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...TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN CYMON AND IPHIGENIA by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO JOSEPH'S COAT by GEORGE HERBERT THE HAUNTED PALACE by EDGAR ALLAN POE CHRISTMAS LULLABY by MARY KATUS ANDERSON REALISM by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON THE CHIEF AMONG TEN THOUSAND (SONG OF SOLOMON) by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR |