  The bride grows pale beneath her veil, The matron, for the nonce, is dumb, Who listens to the tragic tale Of Mrs. Christopher Columb: Who lived and died (so says report) A widow of the herbal sort. Her husband upon canvas wings Would brave the Ocean, tempest-tost; He had a cult for finding things Which nobody had ever lost, And Mrs. C. grew almost frantic When he discovered the Atlantic. But nothing she could do or say Would keep her Christopher at home; Without delay he sailed away Across what poets call “the foam,” While neighbors murmured, “What a shame!” And wished their husbands did the same. He ventured on the highest C’s That reared their heads above the bar, Knowing the compass and the quays Like any operatic star; And funny friends who watched him do so Would call him “Robinson Caruso.” But Mrs. C. remained indoors, And poked the fire and wound the clocks, Amused the children, scrubbed the floors, Or darned her absent husband’s socks. (For she was far too sweet and wise To darn the great explorer’s eyes.) And when she chanced to look around At all the couples she had known, And realized how few had found A home as peaceful as her own, She saw how pleasant it may be To wed a chronic absentee. Her husband’s absence she enjoyed, Nor ever asked him where he went, Thinking him harmlessly employed Discovering some Continent. Had he been always in, no doubt, Some day she would have found him out. And so he daily left her side To travel o’er the ocean far, And she who, like the bard, had tried To “hitch her wagon to a star,” Though she was harnessed to a comet, Got lots of satisfaction from it. To him returning from the West She proved a perfect anti-dote, Who loosed his Armour (beef compress’d) And sprayed his “automobile throat”; His health she kept a jealous eye on, And played PerUna to his lion! And when she got him home again, And so could wear the jewels rare Which Isabella, Queen of Spain, Entrusted to her husband’s care, Her monetary wealth was “far Beyond the dreams of caviar!” ····· A melancholy thing it is How few have known or understood The manifold advantages Of such herbaceous widowhood! (What is it ruins married lives But husbands ... not to mention wives?) O wedded couples of to-day, Pray take these principles to heart, And copy the Columbian way Of living happily apart. And so, to you, at any rate, Shall marriage be a “blessÈd state.” “And so he daily left her side |
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