The Shasta Courier

A Bachelor's Growl.

When lovers are wooing and cooing,
Pursuing some woman for wife,
Nought is thought of the storm that is brewing,
To bring cloudy weather for life.
But those who have gathered the flowers
From the foot-fall of Cupid that spring,
Know there grow in Hymenial bowers
Thorns, nettles, and briars that sting.
He swears never wooer was truer;
She vows she allows not a beau
To be near, or appear as aught to her,
Save as one that she slightly may know.
But women who are by when they sigh,
And such little perjuries make,
Can't conceive how these lovers can lie
Under such heavy mists of mistake.
Their style of exclusive devotion
Is all very well in its way;
But this very unspeakable notion
They find, after marriage, 'won't pay.'
'My darling' will last for a while;
For a while be at intervals kissed;
But though parted by many a mile,
'Tis rarely that Madame is missed.
This 'paying addresses' possesses
A charm, as each lover allows;
But repeatedly paying for dresses
Must follow Hymenial vows.
Though Cupid this office conceals,
That each hapless sufferer fills;
Yet Hymen, more honest, reveals
His duty of 'paying up' bills.
The Paradise promised by Cupid,
With cherubs as guardian-sprites,
Is rendered remarkably stupid
To those who must sleep there o' nights.
These cherubs must all of them eat,
Though the fact is a lover beneath;
And his 'Heaven below' replete
With wailing and gnashing of teeth.
But a lover will never discover
A fault in the one he would wed;
From his dream never seems to recover
Till his march to the altar is led.
His idol then proves an ideal;
Still worship he possibly can;
Yet, though he may love what is real,
You'll allow he's an altar-ed man.

J. R. O.