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A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty

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Written by Ogden Nash

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 Unwillingly Miranda wakes, 
Feels the sun with terror, 
One unwilling step she takes, 
Shuddering to the mirror.
Miranda in Miranda's sight Is old and gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning she is thirty.
Shining like the morning star, Like the twilight shining, Haunted by a calendar, Miranda is a-pining.
Silly girl, silver girl, Draw the mirror toward you; Time who makes the years to whirl Adorned as he adored you.
Time is timelessness for you; Calendars for the human; What's a year, or thirty, to Loveliness made woman? Oh, Night will not see thirty again, Yet soft her wing, Miranda; Pick up your glass and tell me, then-- How old is Spring, Miranda?


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