two moods

My grandmother wrote these poems when she was in college.
She would have been 100 years old this year.

     Two Moods


     Love's not worth all the pain of poverty--
     The bitter hardship, trivial commonplaces.
     Why should I give up life for you,
     When he can make me happier after all,
     And love grows dull and wearisome at best?
     You talk of sharing sorrows, just as though
     They could not be avoided; whereas he
     Speaks only of the pleasures to be shared.
     I'll not forget I loved you once, perhaps
     But, dear, I cannot give up life for love.

     I can cut my hair, I can paint my face--
     I can make your love turn cold.
     I can laugh to score the things you say.
     All of a creed grown old.

     You'll hate me at first, forget in a while,
     But how can I live as his wife,
     When all I can see is the blue of your eyes?
     I'll love you all my life.