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Lord Nevil’s Advice

'€œFriend,'€ quoth Lord Nevil, '€œthou art young
To face the world, and thou art blind
To subtle ways of womankind;
The meshes thou wilt fall among.
 
'€œTake an old married man’s advice;
Use the experience I have earned;
Watch well where women are concerned,'€”
They’re not all birds of paradise!
 
'€œBe circumspect, or thou mayst fall;
Abjure a blind faith’€”nay, trust none’€”
Till thou hast chosen, proven one;
Then trust her truly’€”trust in all.
 
'€œKeep a calm brain and quiet eye,
And watch. The doll of powder and paint,
The flirt, the artificial saint,
The loud man-woman’€”pass them by.
 
'€œThe innocent one, who craves thy cares
To shield her from life’s fret and fray;
Lad, watch her’€”maybe she’ll betray
Some doubtful knowledge, unawares.
 
'€œThe pensive one, who droops and sighs’€”
Wait till her dreaming comes to test;
Be gentle, yet be wary, lest
‘Tis but a graceful grey disguise.
 
’€œThe world-wise husband-hunter’€”she
Who knows no love but love of gold,
And lands and titles’€”empty, cold,'€”
Pity her, lad, and let her be.
 
'€œAnd the rich heiress’€”let her pass.
Belike she’s stupid, drugged with wealth,
And just enjoys her life and health
As some fat cow in clover grass.
'€œOr insolent with prosperity,
Unsharpened, shallow, unrefined;'€”
And thou art poor, and thou wilt mind
That proud blood cometh down to thee.
 
'€œThe gushing gossip’€”she who rains
Incessant chatter in thine ears;'€”
 
She may be worth thy keenest fears,
She may be simply lacking brains,
 
'€œAnd lacking grace and modesty.
She will make mischief, at the best;
She may be wily, like the rest;
Keep thy tongue still when she is by.
 
'€œThey that would master thee, if they could,
In brain and muscle’€”flaring lights’€”
The clamorous for false woman’s rights;'€”
Snub them, my friend’€”it does them good’€”
 
'€œAnd do not think of them for wives.
Fit mates for such seem somewhat rare;
But when two odd ones make a pair,
They spoil at least four precious lives.
 
'€œBut shouldst thou chance to meet a girl
With brave, bright eyes, that front thee straight,
A kindly tongue that does not prate,
And quiet lips that cannot curl;
 
'€œWith fine sense, quick to understand;
With dignity that is not cold,
Sweet, sunny mirth that is not bold,
A ready ear, a willing hand;
 
'€œOne skilled in household arts, and skilled
In little courteous, graceful ways,
That make no show and win no praise’€”
Wherewith discordant jars are stilled:
 
'€œOne who will never touch a sore;
One who sheds sunshine round about,
And draws life’s hidden comfort out;
One whom the boys and babes adore:
 
'€œOne with an intellect to reach
The highest range that thou canst rise;
Who will aye help thee, woman-wise,
And yet not set herself to teach:
 
'€œOne of whom women love to speak,
In honest kindness, and whose name
Men let alone; whose chiefest fame
Lies hidden where men may not seek;'€”
 
'€œFriend, woo her, as a good knight can,
And win her. Lay thou at her feet
Faith, love, and honour, true and sweet;
And count thyself a happy man.'€

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