Grandpa and his 'Dear'

Can anyone say what fun there is
In the thoughtless use of a gun
Which takes its aim at an innocent life,
And, lo! that life is done?

The merry, happy warblin birds
Though roguish they may be,
The song they sing is pleasanter far
Than the bang of a gun - to me

"When I was a boy, " said Grandpa Grey,
"I thought, ' Now, like a man,
I'll take my gun to the field, and bag
As many birds as I can'

"So off I went, and I banged away,
With no thought of the pain I gave,
Till I presently met a sweet young miss
Trying one bird to save.

It had fallen near with a wounded wing,
And the look in her face so sad
Went straight to my heart, and I felt ashamed
Of myself for a heartless lad.

"Well, after that, I never could aim
At an innocent bird again,
But-I took to hunting after the 'dear'
And I did not hunt in vain;
For I've captured one, and I've never-ceased
To love and cherish my 'dear;'
And if you want to see her boys,
Why, look at your grandmother here."