I mused almost in teahs,
“How can a yoke be borne along
By half a pair of steers?”
Even thus in wrath did nature speak,
“Heah! Betsey Bobbet, heah!
It is matrimony! it is matrimony
That is a woman’s speah.”
I saw a paih of roses
Like wedded pardners grow;
Sharp thorns did pave thier mortal path,