| J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921. | | | | Wedlock | | By Jenny Grahame (18th cent.) |
| | | ALAS! my son, you little know, | |
| The sorrows which from wedlock flow: | |
| Farewell, sweet hours of mirth and ease, | |
| When you have gotten a wife to please. | |
| Sae bide ye yet, and bide ye yet, | 5 |
| Ye little ken what ’s to betide ye yet, | |
| The half o’ that will gane you yet | |
| If a wayward wife obtain you yet. | |
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| Your hopes are high, your wisdom small, | |
| Woe has not had you in its thrall; | 10 |
| The black cow on your foot ne’er trod, | |
| Which makes you sing along the road. | |
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| When I, like you, was young and free, | |
| I valued not the proudest she; | |
| Like you my boast was bold and vain, | 15 |
| That men alone were born to reign. | |
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| Great Hercules and Sampson too | |
| Were stronger far than I or you, | |
| Yet they were baffled by their dears, | |
| And felt the distaff and the shears. | 20 |
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| Stout gates of brass, and well-built walls, | |
| Are proof ’gainst swords and cannon-balls; | |
| But nought is found, by sea or land, | |
| That can a wayward wife withstand. | | | | |
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