Page 54 - Poetry-Whimsy

And she is a careful critic; for on yesterday she eyed
The new dress I was airing with a woman’s natural pride,
And she said, “Oh, how becoming!” and then softly added, “It
Is really a misfortune that the basque is such a fit.”

Then she said, “If you had heard me yestereve, I’m sure, my friend,
You would say I am a champion who knows how to defend.”
And she left me with the feeling—most unpleasant, I aver—
That the whole world would despise me if it had not been for her.

Whenever I encounter her, in such a nameless way
She gives me the impression I am at my worst that day,
And the hat that was imported (and that cost me half a sonnet)
With just one glance from her round eyes becomes a Bowery bonnet.

She is always bright and smiling, sharp and shining for a thrust
Use does not seem to blunt her point, nor does she gather rust
Oh! I wish some hapless specimen of mankind would begin
To tidy up the world for me, by picking up this pin.

— Ellen Wheeler Wilcox (Century Magazine, 1887)

The Tale of the Tiger
Still Drags Its Slow Length Along!

When my wife flies into a passion,
And her anger waxes wroth,
I think of the Lady and Tiger
And sigh that I chose them both!

— M.S. Hopson (Century Magazine, 1888)

“The Lady, or, the Tiger?”

Had I been the hero whose fate is unknown,
Do you think I’d have wavered in doubt?
I’d have opened the doors to both beauty and beast,
Saying, “Ladies, you’ll please fight it out!”

— Belle A. Mundy (Century Magazine, 1888)

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