Page:The Happy Marriage and Other Poems.pdf/67

 You milliner! Creation done Was there no decent world to run, Or comet or small tidy moon, But you must pipe your huckster's tune Around and up and down our earth, Exalting lack, decrying worth, Impoverishing best with better, Confounding creditor and debtor, Or singing some dead girl immortal, Or publishing a strange assortal Of water, winds, and clouds, and skies, And locks, and lips, and languid eyes? And that's not all; for when we buy You take our gold and shrug and sigh, And say we had the thing before, And having paid have nothing more Than then we had. A many stars And loves and glamours of old wars You've sold me for their weight in ease