A Woman of Thirty.

by Marjorie Allen Seiffert.

I. The Old Woman (A Morality Play)

The Old Woman (A Morality Play)

Characters: The Woman The House The Doctor The Deacon The Landlady

Doctor: There is an old woman Who ought to die--

Deacon: And n.o.body knows But what she's dead--

Doctor: The air will be cleaner When she's gone--

Deacon: But we dare not bury her Till she's dead--

Landlady: Come, young doctor From the first floor front, Come, dusty deacon, From the fourth floor back, You take her heels And I'll take her head--

Doctor and Deacon: We'll carry her And bury her If she's dead!

House: They roll her up In her old, red quilt, They carry her down At a horizontal tilt, She doesn't say "Yes"

And she doesn't say "No,"

She doesn't say, "Gentlemen, Where do we go?"

Doctor: Out in the lot Where ash-cans die, There, old woman, There shall you lie!

Deacon: Let's hurry away And never look behind To see if her eyes Are dead and blind, To see if the quilt Lies over her face-- Perhaps she'll groan Or move in her place!

House: The room is empty Where the old woman lay, And I no longer Smell like a tomb--

Landlady: Doctor, deacon, Can you say Who'll pay rent For the old woman's room?

House: The room is empty Down the hall, There are mice in the closet, Ghosts in the wall-- A pretty little lady Comes to see--

Woman: Oh, what a dark room, Not for me!

Landlady: The room is large And the rent is low, There's a deacon above And a doctor below--

Deacon: When the little mice squeak I shall pray--

Doctor: I'll psycho-a.n.a.lyse The ghosts away--

Landlady: The bed is large And the mattress deep, Wrapped in a feather-bed You shall sleep--

Woman: But here's the door Without a key!

An unlocked room Won't do for me!

Doctor: Here's a bolt--

Deacon: And here's a bar--

Landlady: You'll sleep soundly Where you are!

Woman: Good night, gentlemen, It's growing late, Good night, landlady, Pray don't wait!

I'm going to bed, I'll bolt the door And sleep more soundly Than ever before!

Deacon: Good night, madam, I'll steal away--

Doctor: Glad a pretty lady Has come to stay!

House: She lights a candle-- What do I see!

That cloak looks like A quilt to me!

She climbs into bed Where long she's lain, She's come back home, She won't leave again.

She's found once more Her rightful place, Same old lady With a pretty new face.

Let the deacon pray And the doctor talk, The mice will squeak And the ghosts will walk.

There's a crafty smile On the landlady's face, The old woman's gone, But she's filled her place!

Landlady: It's nothing to me If the old woman's dead, There's somebody sleeping In every bed!

II. Love Poems in Summer

Singalese Love Songs

I

Your eyes are beautiful beggars, Careless singing minstrels, Who will not starve Nor sleep cold under the sky If they receive no largess Of mine.

Once lived a woman Of great charity--

At last Her own children Begged for bread.

II

I would make you love me That you might possess Desire--

For to your heart Beauty is a burned-out torch, And Faith, a blind pigeon, Friendship, a curious Persian myth, And Love, blank emptiness, Bearing no significance Nor any reality.

Only Weariness is yours: I would make you love me That you might possess Desire.

III

Is my love Of flesh or spirit?

I only know to me Your eyes are wholly you.

Our glances dart Like the flash of a bird Gone, before the colour of his wing Is seen.