A lady laments a voyage of pleasure
And cornucopia, English, weather.
A lady laments a man's time for leisure
But never the daffodil fields of treasure.
A lady laments her chicken-wire home;
Believing the cockerels out on the roam.
A lady laments good-sparkling youth
But only half-hearted in truth.
A lady laments the political tool
But never the boy's public-school.
A lady laments the critic's eye;
Scorning only to whisper and spy.
But-above-all: what a genteel lady laments
Is that once lost innocence.
Mark Heathcote's Other Poems
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