 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
TO INEZ.
Nay, smile not at my garments now;
Alas! I cannot smile again:
Yet Heaven avert that ever thou
Shouldst dress, and haply dress so plain.
Alas! I cannot smile again:
Yet Heaven avert that ever thou
Shouldst dress, and haply dress so plain.
And dost thou ask, Why should I be
The jest of every foe and friend?
And wilt thou vainly seek to see
A garb, even thou must fail to mend?
The jest of every foe and friend?
And wilt thou vainly seek to see
A garb, even thou must fail to mend?
It is not love, it is not hate,
Nor low Ambition's honors lost,
That bids me loathe my present state,
And fly from all I loved the most.
Nor low Ambition's honors lost,
That bids me loathe my present state,
And fly from all I loved the most.
469
It is the contrast which will spring
From all I meet, or hear, or see:
To me no garment tailors bring,—
Their shops have scarce a charm for me.
From all I meet, or hear, or see:
To me no garment tailors bring,—
Their shops have scarce a charm for me.
It is a something all who rub
Would know the owner long had wore;
That may not look beyond the tub,
And cannot hope for help before.
Would know the owner long had wore;
That may not look beyond the tub,
And cannot hope for help before.
What fellow from himself can flee?
To zones, though more and more remote,
Still, still pursues, where'er I be,
The blight of life,—the ragged Coat.
To zones, though more and more remote,
Still, still pursues, where'er I be,
The blight of life,—the ragged Coat.
Yet others wrapt in broadcloth seem,
And taste of all that I forsake!
O, may they still of transport dream,
And ne'er, at least like me, awake!
And taste of all that I forsake!
O, may they still of transport dream,
And ne'er, at least like me, awake!
Through many a clime 't is mine to go,
With many a retrospection curst;
And all my solace is to know,
Whate'er I wear, I 've worn the worst.
With many a retrospection curst;
And all my solace is to know,
Whate'er I wear, I 've worn the worst.
What is the worst? Nay, do not ask,—
In pity from the search forbear:
Smile on,—nor venture to unclasp
My Vest, and view the Shirt that's there.
In pity from the search forbear:
Smile on,—nor venture to unclasp
My Vest, and view the Shirt that's there.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |