The Luckless Maid

The Luckless Maid

by Helen Taylor

When for a walk I chance to go, Dressed in my Sunday gown, It’s sure to rain and hail and blow, I never meet a soul I know In all the stupid town.

But if I think “ 'TwilI surely rain— My oldest frock I’ll wear,” The sun shines out with might and main, And all the neighbours, to my pain, I meet, I do declare !

Oh, so it’s been my whole life long, And will be till I die, For woe is me, a luckless maid, A luckless maid am I !

If in the house at eve I stay Lest Robin Bell should call, He's sure to choose that very day To go home by the meadow-way, And not our road at all !

But if to walk I have a mind, I loose the garden door, And climb the hill-path just behind, Then saunter slowly home— to find He's called an hour before !

Oh, so it’s been my whole life long, And will be till I die, For woe is me, a luckless maid, A luckless maid am I ! - - - o - - -

Source: EP 1/5/1915