Truck-Garden Market-Day by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Peaceful and slow, peaceful and slow, / Skillful and deft, in my own rhythm, / Happy about the house I go- For the men are in town, and their noise gone with 'em.

Well I remember, long ago, How still, in my girlish room, the night was-

Watching the moon from my window, / While cool on the empty bed her light was.

More than my heart to him I gave, When I gave my heart in soft surrender-

Who now am the timid, laughed-at slave

Of a man unaware of this, and tender.

Never must he know how I feel, / Or how, at times, too loud his voice is-

When, just at the creak of his wagon-wheel

Cramped for the barn, my life rejoices!

He would be troubled; he could not learn

How small a part of myself I keep

To smell the meadows, or sun the churn, / When he's at market, or while he's asleep.

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