This was a stately Victorian drawing-room Where ladies worked at tatting, Resting on ottomans, Sitting down sideways To manage their crinolines gracefully. Now by day it is an office Filled with desks and typewriters Quite unsuited to any room planned for leisure, To any room adorned with moulded cornice, With ornate fireplace; And by night our beds, our lanterns, our helmets Bring still more confusion, Till that which had merely Come down in the world Grows as wild as a dream. It was just as well, tranquil Victorian ladies, That you, like all the folk of your period, Prided yourselves on common-sense, Disbelieved in the Second Sight, Never consulted a seer to tell you the future, Never guessed what lay in store for your home. But also you never guessed How happy you were. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH SNIPS PROUD MEN by CARL SANDBURG THE TEN COMMANDMENTS by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE CREATION by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER THAT DAY by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE HILL-VALLEYS by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT |