They Wear Hats in Church

He found her dipped in innocence and timidity
Half his age but ready for a union
He brought her home to see his library
Her aged literature to wed his history books
across his black and white checkered threshold
He would hang her sweetly over the mantelpiece
Bouquet of all daffodils, marigolds and dandelions
Whilst crowning the fire of his dwelling
Her curly tendrils might sweep the hearth with a breeze
While he goes oft and sails the stormy seas

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