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Littell's Living Age/Volume 137/Issue 1764/My Wife

My little wife is out beyond the burn,
     I see her parasol behind the fir,
     And here am I inditing verse to her
               Ere she return.

That pretty bird is happy there conceal'd,
     This fragrant chamber smiles a peaceful smile, —
     What joy to sing the joys of home — the while
               My joy's afield!

My spouse is mild — she's meek as any nun,
     And yet her spiritual calm is such …
     Somehow one's always feeling she is much
               Too good for one.

She thinks I'm wise and handsome — 'tis her creed.
     I wonder am I either! On my word
     Sometimes I've wonder'd "an my bonnie bird"
               Think so indeed:

Perhaps! for she my homage ne'er repels;
     Perhaps I might have loved her half a life,
     Perhaps — had she but been the little wife
               Of some one else.

But why should I complain of cross or cares?
     While entertaining her (who won't complain)
     It may be I an angel entertain
               — And unawares.