Her Terms
MY wedded lifeMust every pleasure bringOn scale extensive!If I’m your wifeI must have everythingThat’s most expensive—A lady’s-maid—(My hair alone to doI am not able)—And I’m afraidI’ve been accustomed toA first-rate table.These things one must consider when one marries—And everything I wear must come from Paris!Oh, think of that!Oh, think of that!I can’t wear anything that’s not from Paris!From top to toesQuite Frenchified I am,If you examine.And then—who knows?—Perhaps some day a fam—Perhaps a famine!My argument’s correct, if you examine,What should we do, if there should come a f-famine!
Though in green peaYourself you needn’t stintIn July sunny,In JanuareeIt really costs a mint—A mint of money!No lamb for us—House lamb at Christmas sellsAt prices handsome:Asparagus,In winter, parallelsA Monarch’s ransom:When purse to bread and butter barely reaches,What is your wife to do for hot-house peaches?Ah! tell me that!Ah! tell me that!What is your wife to do for hot-house peaches?Your heart and handThough at my feet you lay,All others scorning!As matters stand,There’s nothing now to sayExcept—good morning!Though virtue be a husband’s best adorning,That won’t pay rates and taxes—so, good morning!