Classic Poem

H ULDA , diffident and nervous,
Swedish handmaid mild and meek,
Deigning graciously to serve us
For the sum of twelve per week,

When thou goest out each Sunday,
Do we murmur, gentle Swede,
Thursday night and ofttime Monday,
Decked like Mrs. Astor's steed?

When thou asked for Wednesday night off
('Tis the night thy bridge club meets),
Gave we not it to thee, right off,
Then returned our opera seats?

Verily thou hast a soft time.
Canst deny it, best of maids?
Read we not unto thee ofttime.
Tell thee riddles and charades?

Do we not indulge thy wishes?
Gratify thy each desire?
Wash we not the breakfast dishes,
Cook thy meals and tend the fire?

Hulda, though we'd hate to lose thee,
Blessings on thy bovine head,
This one thing we must refuse thee:
We'll not serve thy meals in bed.