These to provide for in a pleasant way,
And, maybe, to avoid their chat and worry,
He shuts up in a harem night and day--
With them contriving all his cares to bury--
A point of policy which, I should say,
Sweetens the dose to men about to marry;
For, though a wife's a charming thing enough,
Yet, like all other blessings, _quantum suff_.

So to my tale: Te-pott the Multifarious
Was, once upon a time, a mandarin--
In personal appearance but precarious,
Being incorrigibly bald and thin--
But then so rich, through jobs and pensions various,
Obtain'd by voting with the party "in,"
That he maintain'd, in grace and honour too,
Sixty-five years, and spouses fifty-two.

Fifty-two wives! and still he went about
Peering below the maiden ladies' veils--
Indeed, it _was_ said (but there hangs a doubt
Of scandal on such gossip-whisper'd tales),
He had a good one still to single out--
For all his wives had tongues, and _some_ had nails--
And still he hoped, though fifty-twice deferr'd,
To find an angel in his fifty-third.

In China, mind, and such outlandish places,
A gentleman who wishes to be wed