The Happy Hen
(To Dr. Marie Stopes et al., and to all scientific lovers)
His hottest love and most delight
The rooster knows for speed of fear
And winds her down and treads her right
And leaves her stuffed with dazzled cheer,
Rumpled allwhichways in her lint,
Who swears, shrugs, redeems her face,
And serves to mind us how a sprint
Heads swiftliest for the state of grace.
I loitered weeping with my bride for gladness
Her walking side against and both embracing
Through the brash brightening rain that now the season
White on the fallen air that now my fallen
the fallen girl her grave effaces.