“Thirty years with that woman there?

No wonder the man hasn’t any hair!

Swearing is wicked, smoke’s not good.

He smoked and swore—I should think he would,

Thirty years with that tongue so sharp!

Ho, Angel Gabriel! Give him a harp!

A jeweled harp with a golden string,

Good sir, pass in where the angels sing!

Gabriel, give him a seat alone—

One with a cushion, up near the throne;