Lesbia Harford Poems
A Meaning Learnt
I'm not his wife. I am his paramour:
His wayside love, picked up in journeying:
Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, till he fling
Me down beside the ditch, a drooped thing
Some country boy may stick into his hat.
A paramour has no more use than that.
All Knowledge . . .
I know more about flowers,
And Pat knows about ships.
'Schooner' and 'barquentine'
Are words of note on his lips.
Even 'schooner, barque-rigged'
Has meaning for him. And yet
I don't believe he knows
Hearts' ease from mignonette.
And whenever the daffodils,