A Moral Man

A STRICTLY moral man have I been ever,

And never injured anybody—never.

I lent my friend a sum he could not pay;

I jogged his memory in a friendly way,

Then took the law of him th’ affair to end;

The law to prison sent my worthy friend.

He died there—not a farthing for poor me!

I am not angry, though I’ve cause to be;

His debt that very moment I forgave,

And shed sad tears of sorrow o’er his grave.

A strictly moral man have I been ever,

And never injured anybody—never.

I sent a serf of mine to learn the dressing

Of meat. He learned it—a good cook’s a blessing—

But strangely did neglect his occupation,

And gained a taste not suited to his station:

He liked to read, to reason, to discuss.

I, tired of scolding, without further fuss

Had the rogue flogged—all for the love of him.

He went and drowned himself—what a strange whim!

A strictly moral man have I been ever,

And never injured anybody—never.

My silly daughter fell in love, one day,

And with a tutor wished to run away.

I threatened curses, and pronounced my ban;

She yielded, and espoused a rich old man.

Their house was splendid, brimming o’er with wealth,

But suddenly the poor child lost her health,

And in a year consumption wrought her doom;

She left us mourning o’er her early tomb.

A strictly moral man have I been ever,

And never injured anybody—never.