My Queen

Frora tilo Toronto Grip. Sha rule with powr, slie ruif with art, Somewhat tyrannical, 'tis tru; Her throne built within mj heari, Her iceptre sirnji o'cr all I do. Tiesaidwhen wiiniin rules a man Slie doei so in uch artful way Thut he Biiriii ses not her plan, And think to serre her is but plaj. I'm eit'.ed with keeuer sight; I kiiuvr her schtraet, lier wl!ea ar pialo; Yt till I think my burden light- As murmuring vrould b in vuiu. I run har errands, pay her billi, And nurse the ba bics half tha tini; These are but sujar-coatcd ills, That man gulps down in svery clime. And so she play hr queenly rol; I laugh and jest beneath her gy ve; Along life's rond I pay the toll. Whils h but holds tht rein and drives. Oh, ym, h rules. But tH her so? I dare not formy very Ilfe. Cali me blind fooi? Oh, wed, you kauw, I dearly lov my queen- my wif.