World's Best Poetry, Volume 9: Tragedy and Humor (Part 1) — On an Old Muff by Frederick Locker-Lampson
ON AN OLD MUFF.
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.
FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON
