To My Laundress + 

Saponacea, wert thou not so fair + 

I’d curse thee for thy multitude of sins⁠— + 

For sending home my clothes all full of pins, + 

A shirt occasionally that’s a snare + 

And a delusion, got, the Lord knows where, + 

The Lord knows why⁠—a sock whose outs and ins + 

None know, nor where it ends nor where begins, + 

And fewer cuffs than ought to be my share. + 

But when I mark thy lilies how they grow, + 

And the red roses of thy ripening charms, + 

I bless the lovelight in thy dark eyes dreaming. + 

I’ll never pay thee, but I’d gladly go + 

Into the magic circle of thine arms, + 

Supple and fragrant from repeated steaming. + 