Classic Poem

Of wedded bliss
Bards sing amiss,
I cannot make a song of it;
For I am small,
My wife is tall,
And that's the short and long of it!

When we debate
It is my fate
To always have the wrong of it;
For I am small
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it;

And when I speak
My voice is weak,
But hers — she makes a gong of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it;

She has, in brief,
Command in Chief,
And I'm but Aide-de-camp of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it!

She gives to me
The weakest tea,
And takes the whole Souchong of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it;

She'll sometimes grip
My buggy whip,
And make me feel the thong of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it!

Against my life
She'll take a knife,
Or fork, and dart the prong of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it!

I sometimes think
I'll take to drink,
And hector when I'm strong of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it!

O, if the bell
Would ring her knell,
I'd make a gay ding dong of it;
For I am small,
And she is tall,
And that's the short and long of it!