I was the milliner <br />Talked about, lied about, <br />Mother of Dora, <br />Whose strange disappearance <br />Was charged to her rearing. <br />My eye quick to beauty <br />Saw much beside ribbons <br />And buckles and feathers <br />And leghorns and felts, <br />To set off sweet faces, <br />And dark hair and gold. <br />One thing I will tell you <br />And one I will ask: <br />The stealers of husbands <br />Wear powder and trinkets, <br />And fashionable hats. <br />Wives, wear them yourselves. <br />Hats may make divorces -- <br />They also prevent them. <br />Well now, let me ask you: <br />If all of the children, born here in Spoon River <br />Had been reared by the County, somewhere on a farm; <br />And the fathers and mothers had been given their freedom <br />To live and enjoy, change mates if they wished, <br />Do you think that Spoon River <br />Had been any the worse?<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mrs-williams/
