NOBODY TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.

NOBODY TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.
463.2

You married a maiden you thought to be rich,
And found that she hadn’t a dime,
And, yoked to a flighty extravagant shrew,
You bewail your sad lot all the time
You dream of a girl who was pure as a pearl,
And roguish and shy as an elf,
And think of the biiss that you man- aged to miss
But nobody’s to blame but your- self.

You went into Wall street, that mael-strom of trade,
To tilt with its captains of fame;
You dipped into wheat without wait- ing a while
Till you mastered the points of the game.
And you woke up one morning to find to your woe
You had neatly been shorn of your pelf,
Litte all of the Tambs that nibbled at shares,
But nobody’s to blame but your- self.

You try to get into society’s whirl,
And so to live in excess of your means,
And keep in the stable a carriage and pair.
And exist on a diet of beans.
Afraid to remember the half of your debts,
And with nothing put by on the shelf.
With the worry each day you are fast turning gray-
But nobody’s to blame but your- self.

You started in life on the road to success,
A youth well equipped for the ride,
But the sparkle and froth of the bot- tle and, glass
Too often enticed you aside.
And now with your prospects all blighted an dead
You find yourself laid on the shelf
With the broken and useless old junk of the world-
But nobody’s to blame but your- self.

At last when your gilded and giddy career
Has come to an end, and, behold-
A trembling and suppliant spirit you stand
And knock at the portals of gold.
Looking out of a heaven as brilliantly blue
As your grandmother’s dishes of deif.
St. Peter will answer-“You cannot come in,
But nobody’s to blame but your-self”.
-Minna Irving.