English poetry

Poets Biographies Poems by Themes Random Poem
The Rating of Poets The Rating of Poems

Poem by Florence Earle Coates

An Idler

She cannot wind the distaff,
⁠     She can nor bake nor brew;
Her hands are indeed too dainty
⁠     Such labors to pursue.

She cares not to follow the harvest,
⁠     She neither can sow nor glean,
But waits for the weary reapers
     ⁠With cheerful calm serene.

Commanding all to serve her,
     ⁠From service she is free;
But, ah, my babe so helpless
⁠     Is health and wealth to me!

Florence Earle Coates

Florence Earle Coates's other poems:
  1. Before the Hour
  2. Veiled
  3. Wouldst Thou Learn?
  4. Victi Resurgunt
  5. Sappho

Poem to print Print


Last Poems

To Russian version


English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru