FAILURE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 5, 30 January 1892, Page 120

FAILURE.

More years ago than I shall name [ sought to win a good wife’s fame, I knew not how —but all the same I made a shirt. I cut, i stitched, with many a tear ; Hollowed it out, both front and rear ; I carved the arm holes wide, for fear They wouldn’t tit. John's neck I measured to be true, The band must fit that much I knew, I’d heard so oft. All else I drew And puckered in. At last twas done. A work of art, Complete I hoped, in every part, • Come, John,’ I called, with quaking heart, Try on your shirt. I must confess it bulged somewhat In places where I thought it should not, But John, the brute, yelled out ‘Great Scot ! Is this a tent ?’ But such behaviour—language, well ’ He muttered things I’d never tell— I may forget them when I dwell In higher spheres. Oh ! woman of the present day, To you’s inscribed this tiny lay ; You little know the man you pay Your homage to. If his ‘true inwardness ’ you’d know. Have him your idols overthrow And sentiment to four winds blow, Make him a shirt.