WHEN I went to the city, Mary McNeely, I meant to return for you, yes I did. But Laura, my landlady's daughter, Stole into my life somehow, and won me away. Then after some years whom should I meet But Georgine Miner from Niles -- a sprout Of the free love, Fourierist gardens that flourished Before the war all over Ohio. Her dilettante lover had tired of her, And she turned to me for strength and solace. She was some kind of a crying thing One takes in one's arms, and all at once It slimes your face with its running nose, And voids its essence all over you; Then bites your hand and springs away. And there you stand bleeding and smelling to heaven! Why, Mary McNeely, I was not worthy To kiss the hem of your robe! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LINE-STORM SONG by ROBERT FROST THE EXEQUY [ON HIS WIFE] by HENRY KING (1592-1669) A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET; OCTOBER, 1746 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNETS TO LAURA IN LIFE: 109 by PETRARCH THE INDIAN'S WELCOME TO THE PILGRIM FATHERS by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY |