THREE maidens went sailing out into the world,
Out into the world of a bail-room floor;
Each thought if her hair was most gracefully curled,
And their mothers stood watching them out from the door:
For men must work, that women may keep
The length of their revels, lest ever they weep,
And their fond mamma be scowling.
Three fathers sat up by their ledgers so blank,
And they conned their accounts with their gray heads bent down;
And they added their bills and their checks on the bank,
And read the dread roll of the day's wrecks in town:
But men must work, lest women should weep;
Though lonely his lot, and his troubles deep,
The pattern pa's not growling.
Three bankrupts were posted in merciless print
In the morning Gazette, as the panic went down;
And their daughters went duly from frenzy to faint,
For the tragedy thrilled the elite of the town:
For men may work, yet women will weep,
And the sooner they're married, the sooner to sleep,
And defy the mamma and her scowling.
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