Too late, too late! I did not know my fairness Would catch the world's keen eyes so! How the men look at me! My radiant rareness I deemed not they would prize so! That I was a peach for any man's posession Why did not some one say Before I leased myself in an hour's obsession To this dull mate for aye! His days are mine. I am one who cannot steal her Ahead of his plodding pace: As he is, so am I. One doomed to feel her A wasted form and face! I was so blind! It did sometimes just strike me All girls were not as I, But, dwelling much alone, how few were like me I could not well descry; Till, at this Grand Hotel, all looks bend on me In homage as I pass To take my seat at breakfast, dinner, -- cone me As poorly spoused, alas! I was too young. I dwelt too much on duty: If I had guessed my powers Where might have sailed this cargo of choice beauty In its unanchored hours! Well, husband, poor plain man; I've lost life's battle! -- Come - let them look at me. O damn, don't show in your looks that I'm your chattel Quite so emphatically! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INDEPENDENCE DAY by ROYALL TYLER CYNTHIA ON HORSEBACK by PHILIP AYRES THE PIONEER by HENRY MEADE BLAND A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 11 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WASTWATER TO SCAWFELL by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE COMING HUNS by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV |