Edna St. Vincent Millay
Reading edition
(Recites in a flippant voice which occasionally chokes up with irrepressible emotion, and clenching her hands tensely as she notices that the Grackle has hopped twice.)
TEA O' HERBS
O I have brought in now Bergamot, A packet o' brown senna And an iron pot; In my scarlet gown I make all hot. And other men and girls Write like me Setting herbs a-plenty In their poetry (Bergamot for hair-oil, Bergamot for tea!) And they may do ill now Or they may do well, (Little should I care now What they have to sell—) But what bergamot and rue are None of them can tell.
All above my bitter tea I have set a lid (As my bitter heart By its red gown hid) They write of bergamot Because I did.... (From its padded hangers They've snatched my red gown, Men as well as girls And gone down town, Flaunting my vocabulary, Every verb and noun!) And the grackle moans High above the pot, He is sick with herbs ... And am I not, Who have brought in Bergamot?