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Eugene Field - Ballad Of Women I Love
Work rating: Low

Prudence Mears hath an old blue plate
  Hid away in an oaken chest,
And a Franklin platter of ancient date
  Beareth Amandy Baker`s crest;
What times soever I`ve been their guest,
  Says I to myself in an undertone:
"Of womenfolk, it must be confessed,
  These do I love, and these alone."

Well, again, in the Nutmeg State,
  Dorothy Pratt is richly blest
With a relic of art and a land effete—
  A pitcher of glass that`s cut, not pressed.
And a Washington teapot is possessed
  Down in Pelham by Marthy Stone—
Think ye now that I say in jest
  "These do I love, and these alone?"

Were Hepsy Higgins inclined to mate,
  Or Dorcas Eastman prone to invest
In Cupid`s bonds, they could find their fate
  In the bootless bard of Crockery Quest.
For they`ve heaps of trumpery—so have the rest
  Of those spinsters whose ware I`d like to own;
You can see why I say with such certain zest,
  "These do I love, and these alone."


Envoy

Prince, show me the quickest way and best
 To gain the subject of my moan;
We`ve neither spinsters nor relics out West—
 These do I love, and these alone.
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