The Dream

I dreamt (I was deep in The middle of sleepin') That as it was leap-year, the ladies — the ladies, Young bachelors stopping, Forthwith began popping The question-which bold Jim afraid is — afraid is.

My slavey she swore, As she knelt on the floor (I was cautioned by many a leer of it — leer of it), She lived but for me, If I'd only love she! But I told her that I wouldn't hear of it — hear of it.

An elderly dame, She confessed to a flame (Though she's older by far than my mother — my mother) Which, dreading my jeers, For a number of years She had struggled, but vainly, to smother — to smother.

So many a mile, To the source of the Nile, She had made up her mind she would carry me — carry me; And having got there, For a wedding prepare, For she fully intended to marry me — marry me!

Attractive young girls, And old maidens in curls (I ascribe it to faulty digestion — digestion), And ladies of rank, Young and plump, old and lank, All set to work popping the question — the question!

And I thought one and all, Thin and fat, short and tall, The alternative gave of a match or law — match or law! Which opened my eyes With excessive surprise, For I am not a popular bachelor — bachelor.