Poems (Millay)/She is Overheard Singing
She is Overheard Singing
Oh, Prue she has a patient man, And Joan a gentle lover,And Agatha's Arth' is a hug-the-hearth,— But my true love's a rover!
Mig, her man's as good as cheese And honest as a briar,Sue tells her love what he's thinking of,— But my dear lad's a liar!
Oh, Sue and Prue and Agatha Are thick with Mig and Joan!They bite their threads and shake their heads And gnaw my name like a bone;
And Prue says, "Mine's a patient man, As never snaps me up,"And Agatha, "Arth' is a hug-the-hearth, Could live content in a cup;"
Sue's man's mind is like good jell— All one colour, and clear—And Mig's no call to think at all What's to come next year,
While Joan makes boast of a gentle lad, That's troubled with that and this;—But they all would give the life they live For a look from the man I kiss!
Cold he slants his eyes about, And few enough's his choice,—Though he'd slip me clean for a nun, or a queen, Or a beggar with knots in her voice,—
And Agatha will turn awake When her good man sleeps sound,And Mig and Sue and Joan and Prue Will hear the clock $trike round;
For Prue she has a patient man, As asks not when or why,And Mig and Sue have naught to do But peep who's passing by,
Joan is paired with a putterer That bastes and tastes and salts,And Agatha's Arth' is a hug-the-hearth,— But my true love is false!