As to the verse, if it were of much later date, it would be almost Alexandrine. Having looked up classical metre from school days, I think it something iambic: how safe it is to put a label on post classical poetry, I am not sure.

For quite a long time in New England history, any self-respecting working class – as well as middle class young man – would approach his sweetheart’s father before asking her. In the 19th century the father would inquire whether the young man had completed 8th grade, which back then was quite an accomplishment. (Check out on the web how difficult a 19th century 8th grade final exam would seem even to modern-day college grads – aside from technology, things really have been dumbed down a lot). And in the first half of the 20th, Dad would inquire whether the young man had completed high school? The young man would be asked to explain how he proposed to support his wife and family once they were married.

On one income.

His.

We’re talking about a family farm, a factory job, a journeyman tradesman, a shopkeeper, or other family business. Nothing all that fancy, really.

And the young man would be asked whether he had some cash saved up for emergencies. Three to six months’ salary to cover expenses in case of illness, disability or lay-off from work.

If the young man didn’t got solid marks on three out of three questions, then the young lady’s father would probably counsel the fellow to wait a year or two before marrying until he had completed night school, or found a job, or put away some savings as the case may be.

Meanwhile, the young woman would have been trained from her earliest years under the tutelage of her mother how to grow fruits and vegetables in the garden, how to cook and to bake from scratch, including a roast beef or roast lamp dinner for twelve, including several home-made pies, how to make preserve, jams, jellies from the produce of her own garden to wash clothes and linens in a tub and to iron, how to sew, including constructing garments, to mend, to run a stove, an oven, and a furnace, how to scrub and clean floors, walls, windows, and furniture, how to make beds, nurse sick children, and very likely how to milk a cow, collect eggs from hens, and care for farmyard animals.

Upper class folk would have the fancy weddings with hundreds of guests in rented hotels and halls with delicacies and elaborate floral arrangement. More modest folk would often marry quietly in church, and then return to the home of the bride which had been made festive by family and friends, and all sit down to a home-cooked meal. No limos, no hired orchestras back in the day, except for rich folk.

In more recent years, working and middle class young couples may well be high school juniors, each of whom still lives in his or her parents’ basement, who decide to “tie the knot” without a penny to either of their names, without the slightest idea what it means to hold a job, since neither of them ever has, with no place to live, and no idea how they are to keep body and soul together without both sets of parents footing the bill, coaxing, minding, nagging, running the errands, co-signing the lease on the apartment, doing the laundry, supplying home-cooked meals . . . and especially supplying the cash for the limo, the tuxes, the gowns, the “bachelorette party”, the immense flowers, the very loud salsa band, and the pricey hotel.

I think the priorities were better in New England, back in the day. But that’s just me.

No northern area needs arctic-white or gray walls during the winter, but even then you can have a nice colorful floor. This is a horrible expanse of white carpet, simply begging to show dirt and stains when dirty, and terribly soulless when clean.

I bet underneath the carpet is some kind of floor with a design to it, unless somebody went with soulless white linoleum or white tile or something. A golden-ish or colorful, patterned floor would make a big difference. Heck, even a throw rug, or an Oriental rug containing all the liturgical colors, would be a great change.