A saucy little poem commenting upon all men that Ms. Parker didn’t marry, perhaps implying (it’s a bit ambiguous) that upon marrying, the husband becomes far more special than all the other men in the world. It’s sort of the same theme embodied in Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince, who was saddened to discover that his rose was like any other rose, except when he further realized that his rose depended upon him alone for her care, and was the only rose that belonged to him. ~ Summary by Michele Fry     [chương_files]