IX. The Secrets of the Old I
have old women's secrets now That
had those of the young; Madge
tells me what I dared not think When
my blood was strong, And
what had drowned a lover once Sounds
like an old song. Though
Margery is stricken dumb If
thrown in Madge's way, We
three make up a solitude; For
none alive to-day Can
know the stories that we know Or
say the things we say: How
such a man pleased women most Of
all that are gone, How
such a pair loved many years And
such a pair but one, Stories
of the bed of straw Or the bed of down. |
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