The Man Who Married Magdalene

The man who married Magdalene Had not forgiven her. God might pardon every sin ... Love is no pardoner. Her hands were hollow, pale, and blue, Her mouth like watered wine. He watched to see if she were true And waited for a sign. It was old harlotry, he guessed, That drained her strength away, So gladly for the dark she dressed, So sadly for the day. Their quarrels made her dull and weak And soon a man might fit A penny in the hollow cheek And never notice it. At last, as they exhausted slept, Death granted the divorce, And nakedly the woman leapt Upon that narrow horse. But when he woke and woke alone He wept and would deny The loose behavior of the bone And the immodest thigh.