Godmother The day that I was christened-- It's a hundred years, and more!-- A hag came and listened At the white church door, A-hearing her that bore me And all my kith and kin Considerately, for me, Renouncing sin. While some gave me corals, And some gave me gold, And porringers, with morals Agreeably scrolled, The hag stood, buckled In a dim gray cloak; Stood there and chuckled, Spat, and spoke: "There's few enough in life'll Be needing my help, But I've got a trifle For your fine young whelp. I give her sadness, And the gift of pain, The new-moon madness, And the love of rain." And little good to lave me In their holy silver bowl After what she gave me-- Rest her soul! Partial Comfort Whose love is given over-well Shall look on Helen's face in hell, Whilst they whose love is thin and wise May view John Knox in paradise. The Red Dress I always saw, I always said If I were grown and free, I'd have a gown of reddest red As fine as you could see, To wear out walking, sleek and slow, Upon a Summer day, And there'd be one to see me so, And flip the world away. And he would be a gallant one, With stars behind his eyes, And hair like metal in the sun, And lips too warm for lies. I always saw us, gay and good, High honored in the town. Now I am grown to womanhood.

I have the silly gown.