We’d build a little bungalow,
If you and I were one,
And carefully we’d plan it, so
We’d get the morning sun.
I’d rise each day at rosy dawn
And bustle gaily down;
In evening’s cool, you’d spray the lawn
When you came back from town.

A little cook-book I should buy,
Your dishes I’d prepare;
And though they came out black and dry,
I know you wouldn’t care.
How valiantly I’d strive to learn,
Assured you’d not complain!
And if my finger I should burn,
You’d kiss away the pain.

I’d buy a little scrubbing-brush
And beautify the floors;
I’d warble gaily as a thrush
About my little chores.
But though I’d cook and sew and scrub,
A higher life I’d find;
I’d join a little women’s club
And cultivate my mind.

If you and I were one, my dear,
A model life we’d lead.
We’d travel on, from year to year,
At no increase of speed.
Ah, clear to me the vision of
The things that we should do!
And so I think it best, my love,
To string along as two.

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

I shall tread, another year,
     Ways I walked with Grief,
Past the dry, ungarnered ear
     And the brittle leaf.

I shall stand, a year apart,
     Wondering, and shy,
Thinking, “Here she broke her heart;
     Here she pled to die.”

I shall hear the pheasants call,
     And the raucous geese;
Down these ways, another Fall,
     I shall walk with Peace.

But the pretty path I trod
     Hand-in-hand with Love,—
Underfoot, the nascent sod,
     Brave young boughs above,

And the stripes of ribbon grass
     By the curling way—
I shall never dare to pass
     To my dying day.

(In the Expected Manner)

Enter April, laughingly,
     Blossoms in her tumbled hair,
High of heart, and fancy-free—
     When was maiden half so fair?
Bright her eyes with easy tears,
     Wanton-sweet, her smiles for men.
“Winter’s gone,” she cries, “and here’s Spring again.”

When we loved, ’twas April, too;
     Madcap April—urged us on.
Just as she did, so did you—
     Sighed, and smiled, and then were gone.
How she plied her pretty arts,
     How she laughed and sparkled then!
April, make love in our hearts
     Spring again!