| |
| I HAVE my best clothes on; | |
| A card case in my hand, | |
| And pain in my heart. | |
| |
| Some one, before I started | |
| Out from the happy home, | 5 |
| Kissed me | |
| On the unhappy eyes with his unhappy mouth, | |
| And said, “Go out—have cheer—and see your friends.” | |
| The world goes on although we burn in hell. | |
| |
| Across the rutty roads that lie in ridges, | 10 |
| Striped and barred like the back of a beaten woman, | |
| Past windows blinded with lace— | |
| So one shall not look in | |
| On five, ten, or a dozen covert lives | |
| Like his, like mine, like ours— | 15 |
| For all we do the best we can | |
| Under the complicated curse. | |
| |
| Past blighted corners of streets, | |
| Where the winds of loneliness take me and twist me | |
| Like a rag sodden with tears, | 20 |
| Forcing me to the shelter of strong houses | |
| Where at least a door will open if I ring….. | |
| |
| I hope no one will be in | |
| For if they are kind to me I shall cry. | |
| |
| The door opens on Chinoiseries. | 25 |
| The mild white maid with many frills | |
| Stands expectant. | |
| There are curtains at her back | |
| Hot and red—no gray. | |
| It is the East in Cromwell Road, | 30 |
| The East where man is polygamous | |
| And without reproach. | |
| |
| They were in and not too kind…. | |
| The kettle hissed and I drank; | |
| Then a parrot shrieked and I fled. | 35 |
| |
| And I am back in the street. | |
| Stranded…… | |
| There are miles and miles of paving stones | |
| Rectangular, with round bosses for the coal cellars. | |
| They converge to a vanishing point | 40 |
| Before they turn and hit me…. | |
| There is a cab, and home! | |
| Home? What home? | |
| The streets are kinder. | |
| |
