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1876–1944

THE OLD MAID

Helen Hay Whitney

Ah, Heaven! How soon my body will be old! I powder and I perfume and I tire With the long wasting of my one desire. I choose fair colors, furs, and antique gold

To draw men's eyes and hands, and yet how cold, How careless are their eyes. I see the fire Flame from my neighbor, and I can aspire To only friendship. I have tried the bold,

The luring attitude, the timid mien, The boyish, wise, or simple, all in vain. I know the women laugh at me, but oh, How can I let my dreamed perfection go?

I am a woman, I must have a man Only to ratify my nature's plan.

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THE OLD MAID · Helen Hay Whitney · Poetry Cove