Men I'm Not Married To with Women I'm Not Married To

No matter where my route may lie,No matter whither I repair,In brief—no matter how or whyOr when I go, the boys are there.On lane and byways, street and square,On alley, path and avenue,They seem to spring up everywhere—The men I am not married to.I watch them as they pass me by;At each in wonderment I stare,And, “but for heaven’s grace,” I cry,“There goes the guy whose name I’d wear!”They represent no species rare,They walk and talk as others do;They’re fair to see—but only fair—The men I am not married to.I’m sure that to a mother’s eyeIs each potentially a bear.But though at home they rank ace-high,No change of heart could I declare.Yet worry silvers not their hair;They deck them not with sprigs of rue.It’s curious how they do not care—The men I am not married to.