Oh, oh, you will be
sorry for that word!
Give me back my book and take my
kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me
purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and
crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a
wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may
whistle for me.
--from The Harp-Weaver and Other Poems, Edna St. Vincent Millay