Whatever I do and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me that 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!