Vain Gratuities by Edwin Arlington Robinson

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NEVER was there a man much uglier

In eyes of other women, or more grim:

"The Lord has filled her chalice to the brim, / So let us pray she's a philosopher,"

They said; and there was more they said of her -

Deeming it, after twenty years with him, / No wonder that she kept her figure slim

And always made you think of lavender.

But she, demure as ever, and as fair, / Almost, as they remembered her before

She found him, would have laughed had she been there; / And all they said would have been heard no more

Than foam that washes on an island shore

Where there are none to listen or to care.

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