Poetry Archives

(By an admirer of the late H.C. Bunner.)


“I know what you’re going to say,” she said,
  And she stood up, causing him some alarm;
  “You’re going to tell me I’ll lose my charm,
And what is a woman when charm has fled?
  And you’re going to say that you greatly fear
  I don’t understand a woman’s sphere;
Now aren’t you honestly?” “Yes,” he said.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she said,
  “You’re going to ask what I hope to gain
  By stepping down to the dusty plain,
By seeking a stone when I might have bread;
  You’re going to say: ‘Can a vote replace
  The tender force of a woman’s grace?’
Now, aren’t you honestly?” “Yes,” he said.

“I know what you’re going to do,” he said,
  “You’re going to talk to me all day long
  Trying to make me see I’m wrong;
And other men who are less misled
  Will pale with jealousy when they see
  The time you give to converting me;
Now, aren’t you honestly?” “Ye-es,” she said.