The Joyful Widower (Poem by Robert Burns)

Old Poem

The Joyful Widower (1)
By Robert Burns

I married with a scolding wife
She made me weary of my life,
    By one unruly member.
Long did I bear the heavy yoke,
    And many griefs attended;
But to my comfort be it spoke,
    Now, now her life is ended.

The Joyful Widower (2)

We liv’d full one-and-twenty years
    A man and wife together;
At length from me her course she steer’d,
    And gone I know not whither:
Would I could guess, I do profess,
    I speak, and do not flatter,
Of all the woman in the world,
    I never could come at her.

The Joyful Widower (3)

Her body is bestowed well,
    A handsome grave does hide her;
But sure her soul is not in hell,
    The deil would ne’er abide her.
I rather think she is aloft,
    And imitating thunder;
For why, — methinks I hear her voice
    Tearing the clouds asunder.

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