The Poetry Corner

Mistress Quiet-Eyes

By James Stephens

While I sit beside the window I can hear the pigeons coo, That the air is warm and blue, And how well the young bird flew - Then I fold my arms and scold the heart That thought the pigeons knew. While I sit beside the window I can watch the flowers grow Till the seeds are ripe and blow To the fruitful earth below - Then I shut my eyes and tell my heart The flowers cannot know. While I sit beside the window I am growing old and drear; Does it matter what I hear, What I see, or what I fear? I can fold my hands and hush my heart That is straining to a tear. The earth is gay with leaf and flower, The fruit is ripe upon the tree, The pigeons coo in the swinging bower, But I sit wearily Watching a beggar-woman nurse A baby on her knee.