FEMALE INGENUITY

Dearest Friend! blest as I am in the matrimonial state, unless I pour into your friendly bosom, which has ever been in unison with mine, the various deep sensations which swell with the liveliest emotions of pleasure my almost bursting heart. I tell you my dear husband is the most amiable of men, I have been married seven weeks, and have never found the least reason to repent the day that joined us, my husband is in person and manners far from resembling ugly, crass, old, disagreeable, and jealous monsters who think by confining to secure; a wife, it is his maxim to treat as a bosom friend and confidate, and not as a plaything or menial slave, the woman chosen to be his companion. Neither party he says ought to obey implicitly; -- but each yield to the other by turns - an ancient maiden aunt, near seventy, a cheerful, venerable, and pleasant old lady, lives in the house with us - she is the de- light of both young and old, she is ci- vil to all the neighborhood round, generous and charitable to the poor - I know my husband loves nothing more than the glass, and his intoxication (for so I must call the excess of his love) often makes me blush for the unworthiness of its object and I wish I could be more deserving of the man whose name I bear. To say all in one word, my dear, and to crown the whole, my former gallant lover is now my indulgent husband, my fondness is returned, and I might have had a Prince, without the felicity I find with him. Adieu! May you be as blessed as I am un- able to wish that I could be more happy.

*** Now, try reading only the odd numbered lines of the poem. That is, start reading from the first line and skipping the next. ***

-- from the Atkinson's Casket, April 1832 --