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 uncontroll'd,
    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.

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