Rosemary, Rosemary, let down your hair!
The cow’s in the hammock, the crow’s in the chair!
I was making you songs out of sawdust and silk,
But they came in to call and they spilt them like milk.
The cat’s in the coffee, the wind’s in the east,
He screams like a peacock and whines like a priest
And the saw of his voice makes my blood turn to mice-
So let down your long hair and shut off his advice!
Pluck out the thin hairpins and let the waves stream,
Brown-gold as brook-waters that dance through a dream,
Gentle-curled as young cloudlings, sweet-fragrant as bay,
Till it takes all the fierceness of living away.
Oh, when you are with me, my heart is white steel,
But the bat’s in the belfry, the mold’s in the meal,
And I think I hear skeletons climbing the stair!
-Rosemary, Rosemary, let down your bright hair!
