Mary Wallace Bundy Little

“ I tear my hair—I storm—I swear, and yet,
'Tis only to dear Omar she pays Heed.
[16]
XVI
"Some for the Glories of this world; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to Come;"
The greatest Boon I ask for is, I may
Supplant this Interloper as a Chum.
[17]
XVII
Now all the Years that we have Wedded been,
Not once had Demon Jealousy crept in
Until this Omar—dead eight Hundred Years,
Did come and her Affection from me Win.
[18]
XVIII
I feel chagrined to Think, at this late Date,
A Man so long since Dead can alienate
The fond Devotion that's been mine alone. ”

“ She smiled and said, "My dear, don't fret about
'Unborn To-Morrow and Dead Yesterday.'"
[26]
XXVI
"'The Moving Finger writes, and having Writ
Moves on.'" "And surely, dear, you have the Grit
To be submissive to the Hand of Fate,
When you can't help yourself a single Bit." ”

“ A Wilderness were Paradise just Now.
[11]
XI
Sometimes when I am very tired, and Plead
To be amused, My Wife says, "I will read."
And this is what she tries to make me Hear,
"With Earth's first Clay they did the Last man knead." ”