A Bachelor’s Views

  A pipe, a book,
  A cosy nook,
A fire,—at least its embers;
  A dog, a glass:—
  ’Tis thus we pass
Such hours as one remembers.

  Who’d wish to wed?
  Poor Cupid’s dead
These thousand years, I wager.
  The modern maid
  Is but a jade,
Not worth the time to cage her.

  In silken gown
  To “take” the town
Her first and last ambition.
  What good is she
  To you or me
Who have but a “position”?

  So let us drink
  To her,—but think
Of him who has to keep her;
  And sans a wife
  Let’s spend our life
In bachelordom,—it’s cheaper.

TOM HALL.