The Harp-Weaver/The Goose-girl

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3877271The Harp-Weaver — The Goose-girlEdna St. Vincent Millay

THE GOOSE-GIRL

Spring rides no horses down the hill,
But comes on foot, a goose-girl still.
And all the loveliest things there be
Come simply, so, it seems to me.
If ever I said, in grief or pride,
I tired of honest things, I lied;
And should be cursed forevermore
With Love in laces, like a whore,
And neighbors cold, and friends unsteady,
And Spring on horseback, like a lady!