The Poetry Corner

In The Edgware Road. (To Lord L - - .)

By Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Will you not buy? She asks you, my lord, you Who know the points desirable in such. She does not say that she is perfect. True, She's not too pleasant to the sight or touch. But then - neither are you! Her cheeks are rather fallen in; a mist Glazes her eyes, for all their hungry glare. Her lips do not breathe balmy when they're kissed. And yet she's not more loathsome than, I swear, Your grandmother at whist. My lord, she will admit, and need not frame Excuses for herself, that she's not chaste. First a young lover had her; then she came From one man's to another's arms, with haste. Your mother did the same. Moreover, since she's married, once or twice She's sold herself for certain things at night, To sell one's body for the highest price Of social ease and power, all girls think right. Your sister did it thrice. What, you'll not buy? You'll curse at her instead? - Her children are alone, at home, quite near. These winter streets, so gay at nights, 'tis said, Have 'ticed the wanton out. She could not hear Her children cry for bread!