* Muff = a warm tubular covering for the hands.
To read another poem by Frederic Locker-Lampson "To My Grandmother", and to view a variation of this poem visit Poets Corner.
ON AN OLD MUFF.
By Frederick Locker.
TIME has a magic wand!
What is this meets my hand,
Moth-eaten, mouldy, and
Covered with fluff?
Faded, and stiff, and scant, -
Can it be? No, it can’t –
Yes. – I declare ‘tis Aunt
Prudence’s Muff!
Years ago – twenty-three!
Old Uncle Barnaby
Gave it to Aunty P. –
Laughing and teasing –
“Pru., of the breezy curls,
Whisper these solemn churls,
What holds a pretty girl’s
Hand without squeezing?”
Uncle was then a lad
Gay, but, I grieve to add,
Gone to what’s called “the bad” –
Smoking, and worse!
Sleek sable then was this
Muff, lined with pinkiness –
Bloom to which Beauty is
Seldom averse.
I see in retrospect
Aunt, in her best bedeck’d
Gliding, with mien erect,
Gravely to Meeting:
Psalm-book, and kerchief new,
Peeped from the Muff of Pru. –
Young men – and pious too –
Giving her greeting.
Pure was the life she led.
Then – from her Muff, ‘tis said,
Tracts she distributed: -
Scapegraces many,
Seeing the grace they lack’d,
Follow’s her – One attack’d
Prudence – and got his tract
Oft’ner than any!
Love has a potent spell!
Soon this bold Ne’er-to-well,
Aunt’s sweet susceptible
Heat undermining,
Slipped, so the scandal runs,
Notes in the pretty nun’s
Muff – triple-corner’s ones –
Pink as its lining!
Worse even, soon the jade
Fled (to oblige her blade!)
Whilst her friends thought that they’d
Lock’d her up tightly:
After such shocking games
Aunt is of wedded dames
Gayest – and now her name’s
Mrs. Golightly.
In female conduct flaw
Sadder I never saw,
Still I’ve faith in the law
Of compensation.
Once Uncle went astray –
Smoked, joked, and swore away;
Sworn by, he’s now, by a
Large congregation!
Changed is the Child of Sin
Now he’s (be once was thin)
Grave, with a double chin, -
Blest be his fat form!
Changed is the garb he wore,
Preacher was never more
Prized than is Uncle for
Pulpit or platform.
If all’s as best befits
Mortals of slender wits,
Then beg this Muff, and its
Fair Owner pardon:
All’s for the best, - indeed
Such is my simple creed –
Still I must go and weed
Hard in my garden.