  OH, if my love offended me, And we had words together, To show her I would master be, I’d whip her with a feather! If then she, like a naughty girl, Would tyranny declare it, I’d give my pet a cross of pearl, And make her always bear it. If still she tried to sulk and sigh, And threw away my posies, I’d catch my darling on the sly, And smother her with roses! But should she clench her dimpled fists, Or contradict her betters, I’d manacle her tiny wrists With dainty golden fetters. And if she dared her lips to pout— Like many pert young misses— I’d wind my arm her waist about, And punish her—with kisses! J. Ashby-Sterry. |
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