between a share of prose and rhyme;
I taught all day which was my prose—
The rhyme in evening, was my beau.
My daily duties never flagged,
But evening callers often lagged;
I’d wonder too how they could know
My many charms and tarry so!
How often evenings I have sat,
Impromptu welcomes all so pat;
I’d tell the girl to say “I’m home,”