Any One Will Do

A maiden once, of certain age,     To catch a husband did engage;     But, having passed the prime of life     In striving to become a wife     Without success, she thought it time     To mend the follies of her prime.     Departing from the usual course     Of paint and such like for resource,     With all her might this ancient maid     Beneath an oak-tree knelt and prayed;     Unconscious that a grave old owl     Was perched above, the mousing fowl!     "Oh, give! a husband give!" she cried,     "While yet I may become a bride;     Soon will my day of grace be o'er,     And then, like many maids before,     I'll die without an early Jove,     And none to meet me there above!     "Oh, 'tis a fate too hard to bear!     Then answer this my humble prayer,     And oh, a husband give to me!"     Just then the owl from out the tree,     In deep bass tones cried, "Who, who, who!"     "Who, Lord? And dost Thou ask me who?     Why, any one, good Lord, will do."