The Friends of His Youth

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The Friends of His Youth

Laughter not time destroyed my voice

And put that crack in it,

And when the moon’s pot-bellied

I get a laughing fit,

For that old Madge comes down the lane

A stone upon her breast,

And a cloak wrapped about the stone,

And she can get no rest

With singing hush and hush-a-bye;

She that has been wild

And barren as a breaking wave

Thinks that the stone’s a child.

And Peter that had great affairs

And was a pushing man

Shrieks, “I am King of the Peacocks,”

And perches on a stone;

And then I laugh till tears run down

And the heart thumps at my side,

Remembering that her shriek was love

And that he shrieks from pride.