O WHERE are the husbands, as good as gold,
Who will carry the baby and never scold?
Who find no fault with the food they eat,
Whether the sauce is too sour or sweet,
And who never yet were known to say
Their mother cooked in a different way?
O where are the husbands, as good as gold,
Be they rich or poor, be they young or old,
Who never forget the vow they took,
Nor count the change in the pocket-book
In selfish fear lest a single cent
By the brave little, good little wife be spent?
O where are the husbands, as good as gold,
Who smile all day, and who never scold,
Whose own dear girls are their pride and joy,
And who play ''all fours'' with the baby boy?
Who keep a bridle on lip and tongue,
And never forget that they were young?
O where are these husbands—tell me where,
Whose lives are pure as the morning air?
Whose eyes are bright as the twinkling star,
And whose breath smells not of the foul cigar;
Who join the boys in their childish mirth
And who think their wives are the best on earth?
There is plenty of room for men like this,
Who know the joy of a loving kiss;
Who do not wait till the heart's at rest
To tell the love that was never guessed.
I care not a whit, be they young or old,—
God bless these men, they are good as gold.