The Musical Wife.How I wish that my wife would not practice all day,My head it is ready to split,It snows, so I can not get out of her way,But at home all the morning must sit.How little I thought, when I first heard her sing,And hung o’er her harp with delight,The sorrows a musical partner might bring,Who would practice from morning till night.Oh! beware ye young men of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!“Eliza, my love, I’ve a letter to writePray cease for a moment, my dear,”“Good heavens!” she cries, “you forget that to-nightNed Seguin and Frazer’ll be here:Anguera has promis’d to bring his Guitar,Rametti will play on the Flute,So I’m trying a second to ’Young Lochinvar,’Which Miss Stone will perform on her Lute!”Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!Last week, in the Senate, on Tuesday’s debate,We never divided till three,When, tir’d and exhausted, I hurried home late,How I long’d for a cup of green tea:But, alas, neither tea nor repose could I get,For Keyser, and Lange, were there,And my wife was performing a fav’rite quartette,So I went to the Club in despair,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!An office was vacant—the postmaster gave,The place to my brother through me,I was out—so the messenger carried his noteTo Eliza—whilst singing a glee.But, surrounded, alas! by her musical choirMy wife could not think of my brother;So the luckless appointment was toss’d in the fire,And the office—was given toanother,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!Yet they tell me, alas! that I ought, to be blest,In a wife with so perfect an ear—Deaf husbands!—Oh, knew ye the blessings of rest,Ye would ne’er be so anxious to hear!I, alas! have discover’d my folly too late—Take Warning by me whilst you can—When you hear a fine voice—Oh! remember my fate!I’m a wretched—unfortunate man!Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s finevoice is the plague of my life!
How I wish that my wife would not practice all day,My head it is ready to split,It snows, so I can not get out of her way,But at home all the morning must sit.How little I thought, when I first heard her sing,And hung o’er her harp with delight,The sorrows a musical partner might bring,Who would practice from morning till night.Oh! beware ye young men of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!“Eliza, my love, I’ve a letter to writePray cease for a moment, my dear,”“Good heavens!” she cries, “you forget that to-nightNed Seguin and Frazer’ll be here:Anguera has promis’d to bring his Guitar,Rametti will play on the Flute,So I’m trying a second to ’Young Lochinvar,’Which Miss Stone will perform on her Lute!”Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!Last week, in the Senate, on Tuesday’s debate,We never divided till three,When, tir’d and exhausted, I hurried home late,How I long’d for a cup of green tea:But, alas, neither tea nor repose could I get,For Keyser, and Lange, were there,And my wife was performing a fav’rite quartette,So I went to the Club in despair,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!An office was vacant—the postmaster gave,The place to my brother through me,I was out—so the messenger carried his noteTo Eliza—whilst singing a glee.But, surrounded, alas! by her musical choirMy wife could not think of my brother;So the luckless appointment was toss’d in the fire,And the office—was given toanother,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!Yet they tell me, alas! that I ought, to be blest,In a wife with so perfect an ear—Deaf husbands!—Oh, knew ye the blessings of rest,Ye would ne’er be so anxious to hear!I, alas! have discover’d my folly too late—Take Warning by me whilst you can—When you hear a fine voice—Oh! remember my fate!I’m a wretched—unfortunate man!Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s finevoice is the plague of my life!
How I wish that my wife would not practice all day,My head it is ready to split,It snows, so I can not get out of her way,But at home all the morning must sit.How little I thought, when I first heard her sing,And hung o’er her harp with delight,The sorrows a musical partner might bring,Who would practice from morning till night.Oh! beware ye young men of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!“Eliza, my love, I’ve a letter to writePray cease for a moment, my dear,”“Good heavens!” she cries, “you forget that to-nightNed Seguin and Frazer’ll be here:Anguera has promis’d to bring his Guitar,Rametti will play on the Flute,So I’m trying a second to ’Young Lochinvar,’Which Miss Stone will perform on her Lute!”Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!Last week, in the Senate, on Tuesday’s debate,We never divided till three,When, tir’d and exhausted, I hurried home late,How I long’d for a cup of green tea:But, alas, neither tea nor repose could I get,For Keyser, and Lange, were there,And my wife was performing a fav’rite quartette,So I went to the Club in despair,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!An office was vacant—the postmaster gave,The place to my brother through me,I was out—so the messenger carried his noteTo Eliza—whilst singing a glee.But, surrounded, alas! by her musical choirMy wife could not think of my brother;So the luckless appointment was toss’d in the fire,And the office—was given toanother,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!Yet they tell me, alas! that I ought, to be blest,In a wife with so perfect an ear—Deaf husbands!—Oh, knew ye the blessings of rest,Ye would ne’er be so anxious to hear!I, alas! have discover’d my folly too late—Take Warning by me whilst you can—When you hear a fine voice—Oh! remember my fate!I’m a wretched—unfortunate man!Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s finevoice is the plague of my life!
How I wish that my wife would not practice all day,My head it is ready to split,It snows, so I can not get out of her way,But at home all the morning must sit.How little I thought, when I first heard her sing,And hung o’er her harp with delight,The sorrows a musical partner might bring,Who would practice from morning till night.Oh! beware ye young men of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
How I wish that my wife would not practice all day,
My head it is ready to split,
It snows, so I can not get out of her way,
But at home all the morning must sit.
How little I thought, when I first heard her sing,
And hung o’er her harp with delight,
The sorrows a musical partner might bring,
Who would practice from morning till night.
Oh! beware ye young men of a musical wife,
For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
“Eliza, my love, I’ve a letter to writePray cease for a moment, my dear,”“Good heavens!” she cries, “you forget that to-nightNed Seguin and Frazer’ll be here:Anguera has promis’d to bring his Guitar,Rametti will play on the Flute,So I’m trying a second to ’Young Lochinvar,’Which Miss Stone will perform on her Lute!”Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
“Eliza, my love, I’ve a letter to write
Pray cease for a moment, my dear,”
“Good heavens!” she cries, “you forget that to-night
Ned Seguin and Frazer’ll be here:
Anguera has promis’d to bring his Guitar,
Rametti will play on the Flute,
So I’m trying a second to ’Young Lochinvar,’
Which Miss Stone will perform on her Lute!”
Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,
For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
Last week, in the Senate, on Tuesday’s debate,We never divided till three,When, tir’d and exhausted, I hurried home late,How I long’d for a cup of green tea:But, alas, neither tea nor repose could I get,For Keyser, and Lange, were there,And my wife was performing a fav’rite quartette,So I went to the Club in despair,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
Last week, in the Senate, on Tuesday’s debate,
We never divided till three,
When, tir’d and exhausted, I hurried home late,
How I long’d for a cup of green tea:
But, alas, neither tea nor repose could I get,
For Keyser, and Lange, were there,
And my wife was performing a fav’rite quartette,
So I went to the Club in despair,
Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,
For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
An office was vacant—the postmaster gave,The place to my brother through me,I was out—so the messenger carried his noteTo Eliza—whilst singing a glee.But, surrounded, alas! by her musical choirMy wife could not think of my brother;So the luckless appointment was toss’d in the fire,And the office—was given toanother,Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
An office was vacant—the postmaster gave,
The place to my brother through me,
I was out—so the messenger carried his note
To Eliza—whilst singing a glee.
But, surrounded, alas! by her musical choir
My wife could not think of my brother;
So the luckless appointment was toss’d in the fire,
And the office—was given toanother,
Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,
For Eliza’s fine voice is the plague of my life!
Yet they tell me, alas! that I ought, to be blest,In a wife with so perfect an ear—Deaf husbands!—Oh, knew ye the blessings of rest,Ye would ne’er be so anxious to hear!I, alas! have discover’d my folly too late—Take Warning by me whilst you can—When you hear a fine voice—Oh! remember my fate!I’m a wretched—unfortunate man!Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,For Eliza’s finevoice is the plague of my life!
Yet they tell me, alas! that I ought, to be blest,
In a wife with so perfect an ear—
Deaf husbands!—Oh, knew ye the blessings of rest,
Ye would ne’er be so anxious to hear!
I, alas! have discover’d my folly too late—
Take Warning by me whilst you can—
When you hear a fine voice—Oh! remember my fate!
I’m a wretched—unfortunate man!
Oh! beware, young men, of a musical wife,
For Eliza’s finevoice is the plague of my life!