What pleasure to me
A bridegroom would be!
When married we are,
They call us mamma.
​No need then to sew,
To school we ne'er go;
Command uncontrolled,
Have maids whom to scold;
Choose clothes at our ease,
Of what tradesmen we please;
Walk freely about,
And go to each rout,
And unrestrained are
By papa or mamma.