My woman has a tea-gownThat is wondrous fair to see,It is flounced as well as ruffed as well as plaited as well as puffed,As a tea-gown should be;And I believed she should be jestingLast night at supper whenShe remarked, by chance, that it came from France,And had expense however two pounds ten.
Had she told me fifty shillings,I may (and wouldn’t you?)Have referred to that gown in a method folks expressBy an eloquent dash or two;But the guileful bit creatureKnew well her tactics whenShe casually stated that that dream in redHad expense however two pounds ten.
Yet our house is all the brighterFor that dainty, sentient thing,That floats away where it correctly may,And clings where it should cling;And I count myself the luckiestOf all us married menThat I have a other half whose delight in lifeIs a gown at two pounds ten.
It isn’t the gown compels meCondone this venial sin;It’s the quite deal with above the lace,And the gentle heart within.And with her arms about meI say, as well as state again,” ‘Twas wondrous cheap,” — as well as I believe a heapOf that gown at two pounds ten!
It isn’t the gown compels meCondone this venial sin;It’s the quite deal with above the lace,And the gentle heart within.And with her arms about meI say, as well as state again,” ‘Twas wondrous cheap,” — as well as I believe a heapOf that gown at two pounds ten!
—Eugene Field
(from The Poems of Eugene Field)
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