HOW happens it, my cruel miss, You're always giving me the mitten? You seem to have forgotten this: That you no longer are a kitten! A woman that has reached the years Of that which people call discretion Should put away all childish fears And see in courtship no transgression. A mother's solace may be sweet, But Hymen's tenderness is sweeter; And though all virile love be meet, You'll find the poet's love is metre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAYBREAK by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TROUBLE IN DE KITCHEN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A POET'S EPITAPH by EBENEZER ELLIOTT A MOTHER'S LOVE by JAMES MONTGOMERY BARS FIGHT, AUGUST 28, 1746 by LUCY TERRY LE MARAIS DU CYNGE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |