A pipe, a book,
A cosy nook,
A fire,--at least its embers;

A dog, a glass:
'Tis thus we pass
Such hours as one remembers.

Who'd wish to wed?
Poor Cupid's dead
These thousand years, I wager.

The modern maid
Is but a jade,
Not worth the time to cage her.

In silken gown
To "take" the town
Her first and last ambition.

What good is she
To you or me
Who have but a "position"?

So let us drink
To her--but think of him

who has to keep her;

And sans a wife
Let's spend our life
In bachelordom - it's cheaper.