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A poem by Matt W. Alderson

The Answer She Gave Him

Title:     The Answer She Gave Him
Author: Matt W. Alderson [More Titles by Alderson]

Your note to me, of recent date,
Where you are so importunate,
Has been received, and I have read,
With greatest care, what you have said.
I am quite pleased that you can see
So much to praise in one like me,
And only wish that I could say
Nice things in such a pretty way.
But, tell me! do you really think
That love is better than "the chink?"
Why, money rules the world to-day,
With strong and unresistless sway!
'Tis little schoolboys talk of love.
But as they older grow, improve;
While girls, though they be very young,
Know better but may hold their tongue.
If you have money, then you can
Go where you will, and be a man;
But if you're poor--a genius, too--
Your family can be but blue,
While oft you'll wish for food to eat,
And for firm friends your heart to greet.
You own you're poor, yet ask of me
To share a poor man's misery!
Why men would be real scarce indeed,
Ere I should think to feel the need
Of one who nothing has but love!
Poor men abound where'er we rove,
And I can get one any day:
(When rich, pray call around this way).
Suppose we loved, and married were,
And fortune gave to us an heir,
Pray who would nurse and care for it?
Who train its mind? who mould its wit?
Who'd wash the dishes, cook the food,
Do out-door chores, and cut the wood?
What buggy rides would I receive?
How many friends would to me cleave?
And then there's concerts to attend,
And other places, that transcend
The theaters and balls that now
We with unstinted praise endow.
Oh, no! don't ask of me to wed
A loving fellow, though his head
Be better filled with brains than those
Who dress themselves in finer clothes:
I want a man who's rich in stocks--
(D'ye think I'd ever darn old socks?)
You talk of love and lovers bold,
As though I'd care if icy cold
Were heart of him to whom with pride
My loving heart I'd fondly tied.
I would be rich and nothing care,
For I'd have lover's everywhere;
And when of one I tired grew,
I'd take my pick and love anew.
Now don't be angry with me, pray,
For what I've written you to-day;
You were to me so frank and true
I could not well be less to you;
So I have said what all must feel,
Though some, I know, the facts conceal.
Then do not seek just now to wed,
But wait until you're rich, instead.

[The end]
Matt W. Alderson's poem: Answer She Gave Him