Poems (Jordan)/The Poet and His Wife
THE POET AND HIS WIFE
John was a poet, and, one day
His wife came where he sat, to say,
In accents low and mild:
"John, dear, I wish to go to town;
I feel so tired, and broken down—
If you will keep the child?"
His wife came where he sat, to say,
In accents low and mild:
"John, dear, I wish to go to town;
I feel so tired, and broken down—
If you will keep the child?"
John grumbled: "What! more medicine?
You're getting silly, Madeline,—
Beside, I wish to write;
I have a poem in my mind,
And think that you are quite unkind—
"All right," said she, "all right!"
You're getting silly, Madeline,—
Beside, I wish to write;
I have a poem in my mind,
And think that you are quite unkind—
"All right," said she, "all right!"
He took the paper frowningly;
She glanced toward him, patiently,
Then moved close to his side:
"What is the title, John?" asked she.
He looked and, absent-mindedly,
"Self-sacrifice," replied!
She glanced toward him, patiently,
Then moved close to his side:
"What is the title, John?" asked she.
He looked and, absent-mindedly,
"Self-sacrifice," replied!