Verse > Anthologies > Fuess and Stearns, eds. > The Little Book of Society Verse
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Fuess and Stearns, comps.  The Little Book of Society Verse.  1922.
 
The Ideal Husband to His Wife
By Sam Walter Foss
 
WE’VE lived for forty years, dear wife,
  And walked together side by side,
And you to-day are just as dear
  As when you were my bride.
I’ve tried to make life glad for you,        5
  One long, sweet honeymoon of joy,
A dream of marital content,
  Without the least alloy.
I’ve smoothed all boulders from our path,
  That we in peace might toil along;        10
But always hastening to admit
  That I was right and you were wrong.
 
No mad diversity of creed
  Has ever sundered me from thee;
For I permit you evermore        15
  To borrow your ideas of me.
And thus it is, through weal or woe,
  Our love for evermore endures;
For I permit that you should take
  My views and creeds, and make them yours.        20
And thus I let you have my way,
  And thus in peace we toil along
For I am willing to admit
  That I am right and you are wrong.
 
And when our matrimonial skiff        25
  Strikes snags in love’s meandering stream,
I lift our shallop from the rocks,
  And float as in a placid dream.
And well I know our marriage bliss
  While life shall last will never cease;        30
For I shall always let thee do,
  In generous love, just what I please.
Peace comes, and discord flies away,
  Love’s bright day follows hatred’s night;
For I am ready to admit        35
  That you are wrong and I am right.
 
Dear wife, when discord reared its head,
  And love’s sweet light forgot to shine,
’T was then I freely would permit
  That thy will should’st conform to mine.        40
In all things, whether great or small,
  In all life’s path we’ve wandered through,
I’ve graciously let you perform
  Just what I wanted you to do.
No altercation could destroy        45
  The love that held us sure and strong;
For evermore would I admit
  That I was right and you were wrong.
 
Sweet wedded love! O life of bliss!
  Our years in peace have flown along;        50
For you admit that I was right,
  And I admit that you were wrong.
No dogged stubbornness of soul
  Has ever wrenched my heart from thine;
For thy will ever was my own        55
  Because thy will was always mine.
So sweet forgiveness crowns our years,
  And sheds on us its tender light;
For I admit that you were wrong,
  And you admit that I was right.        60
 
 
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