 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
125
SO LONELY.
There's something in the good man's face,
It is very rare to see,
On his brow is throned a certain grace,
That tells us he is free.
Why these smiles and all this smirking,
Where once there was a frown?
Oh, what strange influence is working?
Ah, his wife is out of town!
It is very rare to see,
On his brow is throned a certain grace,
That tells us he is free.
Why these smiles and all this smirking,
Where once there was a frown?
Oh, what strange influence is working?
Ah, his wife is out of town!
He was ne'er disposed to cavil,
And was limited in wealth,
And when he bade her travel,
To the seashore for her health,
She said, “Won't you be lonely?”
Then he mournfully looked down,
“I shall miss you, dearest, only,”
And his wife went out of town!
And was limited in wealth,
And when he bade her travel,
To the seashore for her health,
She said, “Won't you be lonely?”
Then he mournfully looked down,
“I shall miss you, dearest, only,”
And his wife went out of town!
Foolish woman, pray take warning,
From these lines so sadly true;
Though he writes you every morning
And swears he pines for you,
He's a giddy, giddy masher,
And he's doing things up brown,
In a friskier way and rasher,
Since his wife is out of town.
From these lines so sadly true;
Though he writes you every morning
And swears he pines for you,
He's a giddy, giddy masher,
And he's doing things up brown,
In a friskier way and rasher,
Since his wife is out of town.
June 21st, 1882.
| A little book of tribune verse | |