Wife and I

I.We quarrell'd this morning, my wife and I, We were out of temper, and scarce knew why, Though the cause was trivial and common; But to look in our eyes, you'd have sworn that we both Were a couple of enemies spiteful and wroth,— Not a wedded man and woman.

II.Wife, like a tragedy queen in a play, Tossed her sweet little head in as lofty a way As so little a woman was able; She clenched her lips with a sneer and a frown, While I, being rougher, stamped up and down, Like a careless groom in a stable.

III.You'd have thought us the bitterest (seeing us then) Of little women and little men, You'd have laughed at our spite and passion; And would never have dreamed that a storm like this Would be rainbow'd to tears by that sunlight, a kiss, Till we talked in the old fond fashion.

IV.Yet the storm was over in less than an hour, And was followed soon by a sunny shower, And that again by embraces; Yet so little the meaning was understood That we almost felt ashamed to be good, And wore a blush on our faces.

V.Then she, as a woman, much braver became, And tried to bear the whole weight of the blame, By her kindness herself reproving; When, seeing her humble, and knowing her true, I all at once became humble too, And very contrite and loving.

VI.But, seeing I acted a humble part, She laughed outright with a frolic heart,— A laugh as careless as Cupid; And the laughter wrangled along my brain Till I almost felt in a passion again, And became quite stubborn and stupid.

VII.And this was the time for her arms to twine Around this stubbornest neck of mine, Like the arms of a maid round a lover; And, feeling them there, with their warmth, you know, I laughed quite a different laugh,—and so The storm (as I called it) was over.

VIII.So then we could talk with the power to please; And though the passing of storms like these Leaves a certain fond facility Of getting easily angry again, Yet they free the heart and rebuke the brain, And teach us a rough humility.