| |
| THE MARRIAGE bells have rung their peal, | |
| The wedding march has told its story. | |
| I’ve seen her at the altar kneel | |
| In all her stainless, virgin glory; | |
| She’s bound to honor, love, obey, | 5 |
| Come joy or sorrow, tears or laughter. | |
| I watched her as she rode away, | |
| And flung the lucky slipper after. | |
| |
| She was my first, my very first, | |
| My earliest inamorata, | 10 |
| And to the passion that I nursed | |
| For her I well-nigh was a martyr. | |
| For I was young and she was fair, | |
| And always bright and gay and chipper, | |
| And, oh, she wore such sunlit hair! | 15 |
| Such silken stockings! such a slipper! | |
| |
| She did not wish to make me mourn— | |
| She was the kindest of God’s creatures; | |
| But flirting was in her inborn, | |
| Like brains and queerness in the Beechers. | 20 |
| I do not fear your heartless flirt, | |
| Obtuse her dart and dull her probe is; | |
| But when girls do not mean to hurt, | |
| But do—Orate tunc pro nobis! | |
| |
| A most romantic country place; | 25 |
| The moon at full, the month of August; | |
| An inland lake across whose face | |
| Played gentle zephyrs, ne’er a raw gust. | |
| Books, boats, and horses to enjoy, | |
| The which was all our occupation; | 30 |
| A damsel and a callow boy— | |
| There! now you have the situation. | |
| |
| We rode together miles and miles, | |
| My pupil she, and I her Chiron; | |
| At home I revelled in her smiles | 35 |
| And read her extracts out of Byron. | |
| We rode by moonlight, chose our stars | |
| (I thought it most authentic billing), | |
| Explored the woods, climbed over bars, | |
| Smoked cigarettes and broke a shilling. | 40 |
| |
| An infinitely blissful week | |
| Went by in this Arcadian fashion; | |
| I hesitated long to speak, | |
| But ultimately breathed my passion. | |
| She said her heart was not her own; | 45 |
| She said she’d love me like a sister; | |
| She cried a little (not alone), | |
| I begged her not to fret, and—kissed her. | |
| |
| I lost some sleep, some pounds in weight, | |
| A deal of time and all my spirits, | 50 |
| And much, how much I dare not state, | |
| I mused upon that damsel’s merits. | |
| I tortured my unhappy soul, | |
| I wished I never might recover; | |
| I hoped her marriage bells might toll | 55 |
| A requiem for her faithful lover. | |
| |
| And now she’s married, now she wears | |
| A wedding-ring upon her finger; | |
| And I—although it odd appears— | |
| Still in the flesh I seem to linger. | 60 |
| Lo, there my swallow-tail, and here | |
| Lies by my side a wedding-favor; | |
| Beside it stands a mug of beer, | |
| I taste it—how divine its flavor! | |
| |
| I saw her in her bridal dress | 65 |
| Stand pure and lovely at the altar; | |
| I heard her firm response—that “Yes,” | |
| Without a quiver or a falter. | |
| And here I sit and drink to her | |
| Long life and happiness, God bless her! | 70 |
| Now fill again. No heel-taps, sir; | |
| Here’s to—Success to her successor! | |
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