WHEN Gladys plays in gladsome glee, All men and gods might wish to see. With flushing cheek and flashing eye She strokes the ball or lobs it high, With cuts of great variety. The ball hides in some blooming tree, And sorely tries poor patient me; But I swear not, oh, no! not I, When Gladys plays. When whist with all propriety, As Foster, Hoyle, or Pole decree, We play together, although my Good ace she trumps, I merely sigh And grant the points to the enemy, When Gladys plays. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: AT FAIRBANKS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BIRTH by ANNIE RAYMOND STILLMAN AMY WENTWORTH; FOR WILLIAM BRADFORD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER WHERE SHALL I DIE? by MARIA ABDY THE SPIRIT AND THE CUP by A. E. ANDERSON THE OLD FLUTE by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER |