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Poem by Thomas Hood


Paird Not Matchd


	Of wedded bliss 
	Bards sing amiss, 
I cannot make a song of it; 
	For I am small, 
	My wife is tall,
And thats the short and long of it.

	When we debate
	It is my fate
To always have the wrong of it;
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	And when I speak
	My voice is weak,
But hers  she makes a gong of it!
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	She has, in brief,
	Command in Chief, 
And Im but Aide-de-camp of it;
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	She gives to me
	The weakest tea, 
And takes the whole Souchong of it;
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	Shell sometimes grip
	My buggy whip, 
And make me feel the thong of it!
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	Against my life
	Shell take a knife,
Or fork, and dart the prong of it;
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	I sometimes think 
	Ill take to drink, 
And hector when Im strong of it;
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!

	O, if the bell
	Would ring her knell,
Id make a gay ding-dong of it;
	For I am small,
	And she is tall, 
And thats the short and long of it!



Thomas Hood


Thomas Hood's other poems:
  1. The Boy at the Nore
  2. Stanzas (Is there a bitter pang for love removed)
  3. The Two Peacocks of Bedfont
  4. Sonnet for the 14th of February
  5. Written in Keats' Endymion


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