Whatever I do and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me it isn't the way
When _she_ was a girl (forty summers ago);
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.
Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice!
But I like my own way, and I find it _so_ nice!
And besides, I forget half the things I am told;
But they all will come back to me--when I am old.
If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt,
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out;
_She_ would never endure an impertinent stare--
It is _horrid_, she says, and I mustn't sit there.
A walk in the moonlight has pleasures, I own,
But it isn't quite safe to be walking alone;
So I take a lad's arm--just for safety you know--
But Aunt Tabitha tells me _they_ didn't do so.
How wicked we are, and how good they were then!
They kept at arm's length those detestable men;
What an era of virtue she lived in!--But stay--
Were the _men_ all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day?
If the men _were_ so wicked, I'll ask my papa
How he dared to propose to my darling mamma;
Was he like the rest of them? Goodness! Who knows?
And what shall _I_ say, if a wretch should propose?
I am thinking if aunt knew so little of sin,
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been!
And her grand-aunt--it scares me--how shockingly sad
That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad!
A martyr will save us, and nothing else can,
Let _me perish_--to rescue some wretched young man!
Though when to the altar a victim I go,
Aunt Tabitha'll tell me _she_ never did so!