La Derniere Robe De Soi

Poem By Edith Nesbit

OH, silken gown, all pink and pretty,
Bought, quite a bargain, in the City,
Your ill-trained soul full false has played me--
No Paris gown would have betrayed me.

You knew, my pretty silken treasure,
I must not wed for love or pleasure,
But for a settlement and title;
Yet you encouraged his recital!

He said--oh, faithless gown, you listened
While on your sheen two tear drops glistened--
He said . . . let love to music set it,
I'll never speak it--nor forget it!

'No, no!' I cried, I tried to save you--
False gown, you showed the tears I gave you!
You looked discreet when first I found you.
How could you let his arm go round you?

You darling dress--I'll smooth your creases,
I'll wear you till you drop to pieces;
But poor men's wives wear cotton only--
Dear gown--I hope you won't feel lonely!

Comments about La Derniere Robe De Soi

There is no comment submitted by members.


2,6 out of 5
36 total ratings

Other poems of NESBIT

Age To Youth

Sunrise is in your eyes, and in your heart
The hope and bright desire of morn and May.
My eyes are full of shadow, and my part

A Tragedy

Among his books he sits all day
To think and read and write;
He does not smell the new-mown hay,
The roses red and white.

A Comedy

MADAM, you bade me act a part,
A comedy of your devising--
Forbade me to consult my heart,
To be sincere--or compromising.

A Star In The East

LIKE a fair flower springing fresh, sweet, and bright,

A Dirge

LET Summer go
To other gardens; here we have no need of her.
She smiles and beckons, but we take no heed of her,

After Sixty Years

RING, bells! flags, fly! and let the great crowd roar
Its ecstasy. Let the hid heart in prayer
Lift up your name. God bless you evermore,