One night as I paused by the Nursery door,
And looked at the scattered toys,
I said to myself, “Was there ever before
Such troublesome girls and boys?”
And then as I hurried to gather them up,
I heard a wee voice complain,
“Oh! sorry am I that I ever was wed,
And would I were single again!”
On the ground at my feet lay a soldier red,
And I think he was made of tin,