I WONDER what day of the week -- I wonder what month of the year -- Will it be midnight, or morning, And who will bend over my bier? -- What a hideous fancy to come As I wait, at the foot of the stair, While Lilian gives the last touch To her robe, or the rose in her hair. Do I like your new dress -- pompadour? And do I like you? On my life, You are eighteen, and not a day more, And have not been six years my wife. Those two rosy boys in the crib Up-stairs are not ours, to be sure! -- You are just a sweet bride in her bloom, All sunshine, and snowy, and pure. As the carriage rolls down the dark street The little wife laughs and makes cheer -- But ... I wonder what day of the week, I wonder what month of the year. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD MADE AT THE REQUEST OF HIS MOTHER .. PRAY TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON NORTH-WEST PASSAGE: 2. SHADOW MARCH by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE LADY OF SHALOTT by ALFRED TENNYSON MEXICAN FUNERAL PROCESSION by BEULAH VICK BICKLEY |