Page 20 - Poetry-Romance

And she joined the merry party, and she shook her dewy curls,
And the lightning of her laughter was a dazzling flash of pearls.
And at 10 A.M. on Tuesday she and Colonel Birch were wed:
‘Twas a cheerful, glad occasion—for his creditors—‘tis said.
All admired his manly bearing, so serenely calm was he,
And collected—as ‘twas hoped that now those little bills might be.
She was just one cloud of loveliness, from bridal wreath and veil
To the vast voluminous flounces, and the drifted, snowy trail.
Brown was present, and he couldn’t for his life repress a smile,
As he saw the white teeth glitter half-way down the shady aisle.
And he whispered to the lady who sat blushing by his side
(‘Twas the old soap-maker’s daughter, who was soon to be his bride)
That there could have been no wedding—though the fact seemed
very odd—
If it hadn’t been for him and that accommodating cod.

— J.T. Trowbridge (Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, 1876)

A Blue-Stocking

Some years ago I madly loved
A maiden scientific,
Whose knowledge about everything,
Was perfectly terrific !

She writes to-day for magazines,
Essays, and verse, and stories;
And in all kinds of abstruse themes,
She positively glories!

Her mind of long forgotten lore,
Is an unique condenser;
She knows by heart John Stuart Mill,
And likewise Herbert Spencer!

~ 18 ~