Private Theatricals
By Louise Guiney (USA and England, 1861-1920)
You were a haughty beauty, Polly
(That was in the play),
I was the lover melancholy
(That was in the play);
And when your fan and you receded,
And all my passion lay unheeded,
If still with tenderer words I pleaded,
They were in the play.
I met my rival in the gateway
(That was in the play),
And so we fought a duel straightaway
(That was in the play);
But when Jack hurt my arm unduly,
And you rushed over, softened newly,
And kissed me, Polly! truly, truly,
Was that in the play?
Dear Friends,
To see what other sapphic flirtings poetesses of the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries actually got away with — or at least had preserved and published after their deaths — check out the collection Poems Between Women: Four Centuries of Love, Romantic Friendship, and Desire by Emma Donoghue.
As a reminder, April is National Poetry Month, and I am celebrating by sending out one poem per day for the duration of the month. You can learn more about National Poetry Month at www.poets.org, the website of the Academy of American Poets.
Best,
Ellen