To see my wife so freely chat

With strangers at hotels, and that.

That Frenchman, first, on board the boat

But he is only one to quote

It was presuming when the man

At once to talk to Rose began;

She should have known the proper way

To keep such insolence at bay!

She might have checked him with a look, And quietly have been polite;

She laughed at his mistakes, and took

The greatest pains to put him right! And seemed about as pleased as he,

And was, I thought, almost too free!

I do not wish my wife to fetter,

But more reserve would please me better.

If she were less accessible,

Her spirits more repressible,

A something there, a sort of grace,

To make all people know their place!

She's so attractive, and so fair,

Men turn to watch her everywhere,

And she is pleased because they stare!
Were I a woman, now, I think

From such attention I should shrink.

She means no harm, but, to my taste,
This confidence is much misplaced.
The code she goes by seems to be-
With men be at your ease, and free;
Love where you love, and treat the others
As if they were your friends and brothers!

At home! A very charming word

Has home become to me,

So sweet, its like was never heard

In days of liberty.

There's one to watch my coming home,

To meet me with a smile;

In truth, I have no need to roam

My leisure to beguile.

But breakfast over, I'm away,
And only back to dine.-

I wonder how she spends the day,

To what her tastes incline?

I almost envy her, indeed,

So much as she might do !There are so many things to read,

I scarce can look them through.

But I my duty must not shirk
Nor do my duty ill,

For now I've double cause to work,

And work with double will.

To have a second life that lives

For you, and you alone,

Repeats your pleasures, and it gives A greater of its own!—

I do believe Rose scarcely reads

A Paper or Review;

She'd rather work a mat with beads

Than look a column through;

She'd rather play a silly dance

That has so little in it,

Than give to matters of finance,
Or politics, a minute !—

Well, never mind, she's very sweet

And very dear to me!

I love to watch her, bright, and neat,

At dinner and at tea.

And when she pours me out my tea,

The tea it is so good!—

It never was like this to me

In days of bach❜lorhood!

I often take another cup,
To have her pour it out,

And sip, and drink it slowly up,
And keep the things about.-