Ah, when my deah future companion’s heart with grief is rife,
With his bosom’s smart, with the cares of life,
Ah, what higher, sweeter, bliss could be,
Than to be a soothing poultice unto he?
And if he have any companions lost—if they from earth have risen,
Ah, I could weep tears of joy—for the deah bliss of wiping away his’en;
Or if he (should happen to) have any twins, or othah blessed little ties,
Ah, how willingly on the altah of duty, B. Bobbet, herself would sacrifice.
I would (all the rest of) life to the cold winds fling,
And live for love—and live to cling.