Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

Humorous Poems: I. Woman

On an Old Muff

Frederick Locker-Lampson (1821–1895)

TIME has a magic wand!

What is this meets my hand,

Moth-eaten, mouldy, and

Covered with fluff,

Faded and stiff and scant?

Can it be? no, it can’t,—

Yes,—I declare ’t is Aunt

Prudence’s Muff!

Years ago—twenty-three!

Old Uncle Barnaby

Gave it to Aunty P.,

Laughing and teasing,—

“Pru. of the breezy curls,

Whisper these solemn churls,

What holds a pretty girl’s

Hand without squeezing?”

Uncle was then a lad,

Gay, but, I grieve to add,

Gone to what ’s called “the bad,”—

Smoking,—and worse!

Sleek sable then was this

Muff, lined with pinkiness,—

Bloom to which beauty is

Seldom averse.

I see in retrospect

Aunt, in her best bedecked,

Gliding, with mien erect,

Gravely to meeting:

Psalm-book, and kerchief new,

Peeped from the Muff of Pru.,

Young men—and pious, too—

Giving her greeting.

Pure was the life she led

Then: from her Muff, ’t is said,

Tracts she distributed;—

Scapegraces many,

Seeing the grace they lacked,

Followed her; one attacked

Prudence, and got his tract,

Oftener than any!

Love has a potent spell!

Soon this bold ne’er-do-well,

Aunt’s sweet susceptible

Heart undermining,

Slipped, so the scandal runs,

Notes in the pretty nun’s

Muff,—triple-cornered ones,—

Pink as its lining!

Worse, even, soon the jade

Fled (to oblige her blade!)

Whilst her friends thought that they ’d

Locked her up tightly:

After such shocking games,

Aunt is of wedded dames

Gayest,—and now her name ’s

Mrs. Golightly.

In female conduct flaw

Sadder I never saw,

Still I ’ve faith in the law

Of compensation.

Once uncle went astray,—

Smoked, joked, and swore away;

Sworn by, he ’s now, by a

Large congregation!

Changed is the child of sin;

Now he ’s (he once was thin)

Grave, with a double chin,—

Blest be his fat form!

Changed is the garb he wore:

Preacher was never more

Prized than is uncle for

Pulpit or platform.

If all ’s as best befits

Mortals of slender wits,

Then beg this Muff, and its

Fair owner pardon;

All ’s for the best,—indeed,

Such is my simple creed;

Still I must go and weed

Hard in my garden.