Fortune’s frail and flattered child,
Spent our wealth, as if the day
Ne’er would dim or pass away;
And—oh, monstrous thought!—the fair
Scratched my eyes and tore my hair.
Naught but misery was our guest.
Then I sought the parish priest:
“Father, grant me a divorce.
Nay, you’ll grant it me, of course;
Reasons many can be given—