Ye Song Of Ye Gossips by Howard Pyle


One old maid,
And another old maid,
And another old maid–that’s three–
And they were agossiping, I am afraid,
As they sat sipping their tea.


They talked of this,
And they talked of that,
In the usual gossiping way
Until everybody was black as your hat,
And the only ones white were they.


One old maid,
And another old maid,–
For the third had gone into the street–
Who talked in a way of that third old maid,
Which never would do to repeat.


And now but one
Dame sat all alone,
For the others were both away.
“I’ve never yet met,” said she, with a groan,
“Such scandalous talkers as they.”


“Alas! and alack!”
“We’re all of a pack!
For no matter how we walk,
Or what folk say to our face, our back
Is sure to breed gossip and talk.”


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