MRS. SMITH.

Last year I trod these fields with Di,

And that's the simple reason why

They now seem arid:

Then Di was fair and single — how

Unfair it seems on me — for now

Di's fair, and married.

In bliss we roved. I scorned the song

Which says that though young Love is strong

The Fates are stronger:

Then breezes blew a boon to men —

Then buttercups were bright — and then

This grass was longer.

That day I saw, and much esteemed

Di's ankles — which the clover seemed

Inclined to smother:

It twitched, and soon untied ( for fun )

The ribbons of her shoes — first one,

And then the other.

‘ Tis said that virgins augur some

Misfortune if their shoestrings come

To grief on Friday:

And so did Di — and so her pride

Decreed that shoestrings so untied,

“Are so untidy!”

Of course I knelt — with fingers deft

I tied the right, and then the left:

Says Di — “This stubble

Is very stupid — as I live

I'm shocked — I'm quite ashamed to give

You so much trouble.”

For answer I was fain to sink

To what most swains would say and think

Were Beauty present:

“Do n't mention such a simple act —

A trouble? not the least. In fact

It's rather pleasant.”

I trust that love will never tease

Poor little Di, or prove that he's

A graceless rover.

She's happy now as Mrs. Smith —

But less polite when walking with

Her chosen lover.

Heigh-ho! Although no moral clings

To Di's soft eyes, and sandal strings,

We've had our quarrels!—

I think that Smith is thought an ass,

I know that when they walk in grass

She wears balmorals.