Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/The One Grand Point

The One Grand Point.

When man and wife,
As oft in life,
Both equally in fault we see.
It needs must strike
That so alike
It's wonderful they can't agree!

But Dr. Johnson, moral sage,
Reviewed the past and present age,
And ventured to declare,
That marriage (such is hapless fate)
Was clearly an unnatural state,
Which none could calmly bear.

"For mark," said he, "what laws are made,
How binding, nothing can evade,
When strifes arise, and stormy weather;
Yet, spite of all the law's dominion,
Custom and force of old opinion
Can scarcely keep the two together."

A wedded pair there once existed,
'Twixt whom these doctrines were divided;
The husband in the last persisted,
The wife was for the first decided.
Constant their squabbles all day long,
Their nightly theme, their morning's song—
Their faith was this—whatever is, is wrong.

One day, the usual storm subsiding,
(For, breathless, all must leave off chiding)
The dame began to smooth her brows,
And thus addressed her peevish spouse:
"Really, my dear, I can't conceive
Why little things should make us grieve,
And put our tempers out of joint,
When neither cares how these succeed,
And we are perfectly agreed
About the main, the one grand point."

"Agreed!" the man exclaimed—"what stuff!
In what grand point, I pray?"
"The grandest point—'tis clear enough,
As you," said she, "shall say:
Agreed in this, which not a fool
Will venture to deny—
You wish to rule,
And so do I!"