Author Thomas Flatman How happy a thing were a wedding, And a bedding, If a man might purchase a wife For a twelvemonth and a day; But to live with her all a man's life, For ever and for aye, Till she grows as grey as a cat, Good faith, Mr. Parson, excuse me from that! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments