A Maiden Lady
A Maiden Lady.
Of a summer afternoon,
In her parlor window there,
She would sit, her meek face showing
Delicately long and fair,
Sewing on some dainty garment, no one ever saw her wear.
She'd be dressed in cool old muslin
With a lilac pattern dim;
Full soft skirt, and pointed body
Cut severely straight and prim
Maiden-dress and maiden lady, sober, delicate and prim.
She seemed not with love acquainted;
Half too fine to hold him dear.
Folk spoke shyly of love-matters,
With this maiden lady near,
With a feeling it were converse hardly suited to her ear.
When she cried, poor, shy old maiden,
Her artless secret saw the sun:
She had been with love acquainted,
Always, just like any one:
But had kept him in a closet hidden, as a skeleton.
Mary E. Wilkins.