Partingtonian patchwork Blifkins the martyr : the domestic trials of a model husband. The modern syntax : Dr. Spooner's experiences in search of the delectable. Partington papers : strippings of the warm milk of human kindness. New and old dips from an unambitious inkstand. Humorous, eccentric, rhythmical |
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MY TWENTY-FIRST WEDDING DAY. |
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73
MY TWENTY-FIRST WEDDING DAY.
Twenty-one years!—and it weren't at all strange
If in that time had happened many a change;
The jolly young boy, in waist but a span,
Is now a married and corpulent man;
And my wife, then a damsel so tender and shy,
Is as fat as a seal, and equally spry.
If in that time had happened many a change;
The jolly young boy, in waist but a span,
Is now a married and corpulent man;
And my wife, then a damsel so tender and shy,
Is as fat as a seal, and equally spry.
I've sown my wild oats; I've cut all the crew
With whom in my youth I put matters through;
I gave up cigars as a tribute to love,
And punch, that I prized all comforts above;
I have put all pleasures of old under ban,
Determined to life like a true married man.
With whom in my youth I put matters through;
I gave up cigars as a tribute to love,
And punch, that I prized all comforts above;
I have put all pleasures of old under ban,
Determined to life like a true married man.
With my children around me, my wife by my side,
Who's as dear to me now as when first my bride,
I envy not those who are soaking their clay,
Or are burning their lives in tobacco away,
Content to remain here just as I am,
As happy as is at high water a clam.
Who's as dear to me now as when first my bride,
I envy not those who are soaking their clay,
Or are burning their lives in tobacco away,
Content to remain here just as I am,
As happy as is at high water a clam.
Let fate do its best, or its worst, as it may;
All luck is but accident, just, of a day;
The good and the bad, the sorrows and joys,
Are nothing at all but trifles and toys;
I'll sit at my ingle, and say, as they fly,
I'm watching the harvest to come by and by.
All luck is but accident, just, of a day;
The good and the bad, the sorrows and joys,
Are nothing at all but trifles and toys;
I'll sit at my ingle, and say, as they fly,
I'm watching the harvest to come by and by.
| Partingtonian patchwork | |