26
Valedictory to a Cooking Stove.
And if success crowned our united efforts,
In shape of well-baked pies, light bread and cake,
Thy black and shining visage glowed with pleasure,
And e'en my face relaxed into a smile.
And when unwelcome visitors did stop
Before our door, and caught us unprepared,
Thine was the ear (since thou couldst tell no tales,)
That listened to my scolding and complaints—
And thine too was the ready sympathy
To aid me in my trouble, not regarding
The frown, or blow, or banging of the doors,
With which my spite did vent itself on thee.
Well-traveled art thou, it must be confessed,
And something knowest of the world—or else
Thy privileges have been much abused;
For thou and I have been true yoke-fellows
In many different towns and villages,
And wheresoever we have pitched our tent,
Thy cheerful blaze has helped to make it home.
And last, though not the least of all thy favors,
In these days of aspiring geniuses,
When servants must be leaders, well obeyed,
And former masters wear the yoke of bondage,
Thou never hast rebelled—but wond'rous fact,
Myself have been the mistress—thou the slave!
Well, go thy ways, old friend—and worldling-like
I shall forget thy services, perchance,
And join the cry, "new measures and reform."
In shape of well-baked pies, light bread and cake,
Thy black and shining visage glowed with pleasure,
And e'en my face relaxed into a smile.
And when unwelcome visitors did stop
Before our door, and caught us unprepared,
Thine was the ear (since thou couldst tell no tales,)
That listened to my scolding and complaints—
And thine too was the ready sympathy
To aid me in my trouble, not regarding
The frown, or blow, or banging of the doors,
With which my spite did vent itself on thee.
Well-traveled art thou, it must be confessed,
And something knowest of the world—or else
Thy privileges have been much abused;
For thou and I have been true yoke-fellows
In many different towns and villages,
And wheresoever we have pitched our tent,
Thy cheerful blaze has helped to make it home.
And last, though not the least of all thy favors,
In these days of aspiring geniuses,
When servants must be leaders, well obeyed,
And former masters wear the yoke of bondage,
Thou never hast rebelled—but wond'rous fact,
Myself have been the mistress—thou the slave!
Well, go thy ways, old friend—and worldling-like
I shall forget thy services, perchance,
And join the cry, "new measures and reform."
