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    Any Lover to His Lass
    by Breton Braley

    Most people live a humdrum life
        When they are married; day by day
    They have their petty little strife,
        They fuss and argue, yea and nay.
        And so they wear their lives away;
    But we, we gaze at scorn thereat
        And in our confidence we say:
    "Ah, we won't ever be like that!"

    Many a husband leaves his wife
        While he goes out alone to play;
    A shrew whose tongue is like a knife
        Makes many a spouse grow dour and gray.
        While love that once was blithe and gay
    Grows unromantic, bald and fat;
        But our love never shall decay
    And we won't ever be like that!

    Shrill as the note of any fife
        The cynics' voices warn us, "Stay!"
    The matrimonial state is rife
        With trouble, worry and dismay;
        Marriage is one continual fray
    Or else a boredom, dull and flat!"
        But why should that concern us, pray?
    For we won't ever be like that!

                        ENVOY

    Sweetheart, through all the world should flay
        Wedlock as one continual spat;
    It wouldn't cause us to delay
        For we won't ever be like that!

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