Poetry Archives

I knew three sisters,—all were sweet;
          Wishful to wed was I,
And wondered which would mostly meet
          The matrimonial tie.
I asked the first what fate would she
          Wish joy of life to bring to her.
She answered: ‘I would like to be
          A concert singer.’

I asked the second, for my mind
          Was set on nuptial noosing,
Unto what lot was she inclined
          If she could have the choosing?
Said she: ‘For woman I can see
          No fortune finer,
Than to go in for Art and be
          A dress designer.’

With heavy heart I asked the third
          What was her life ambition;
A maiden she in look and word
          Of modest disposition.
‘Alas, I dearly wish,’ said she,
          ‘My aims were deeper:
My highest hope it is to be
          A good house-keeper.’

Which did I choose? Look at my home,—
          The answer’s there;
As neat and sweet as honeycomb,
          With children fair.
And so it humbly seems to me,
          In common life,
A woman’s glory is to be
          A good house-wife.