Phenix Gazette

A BRIDAL LETTER.
Well, dearest Fanny, all is o'er,
Your little friend is really married?
I've been a bride a week or more,
And all the time at home have tarried.
The folks are calling in to see.
And wish me joy on the occasion,
I never knew, most certainly,
A match required so much persuasion.
I had a brilliant wedding day,
The dinner was extremely splendid,
And for my jewels and array,
A goodly sum had been expended;
But then the colonel's very rich
And wished his bride to look becoming,
And does not choose that I should be
Forever stupid farthings summing:
The ball at night was very gay,
They laughed and talked and danced till
morning;
But ere the party went away,
I could not help a little yawning.
I never heard the clock strike ten
Until I had a real lover;
We kept good hours at school—but then
I thought the eve would ne'er be over.
My husband—dear, how strange it seems
For me to say so—just remember
Your friend, dear lad.
And will not be till next December.
The people laugh at it, my dear,
And smile and joke with one another;
And it does sound extremely queer,
When I'm called Mrs., like my mother.
But to return, you'll wish to know,
Of course about my lord and master!
Well, in his gait he's rather slow,
Once broke his leg by some disaster;
Not very tall, nor very short—
He quite resembles your old granny!
He's lost an eye and several teeth!
Now isn't it distressing,
Fanny?
I cannot say I love him much,
But then pa so urged the marriage.
To think of India shawls and pearls,
Of liveried servants and a carriage,
Of looks of envy saintly sent
From far and near towards his daughter;
So, with a sigh, I gave consent,
But wished him well—across the water!
Mamma was highly pleased, of course,
To find my face had so attracted
A man of wealth—and to refuse,
She said, would prove me quite distracted.
He's very early sixty three,
I thought him much too old and hearty;
But ma declared, it would not be
A better age for either party!
So we are wedded—I'm a bride,
And have a coach and servants many;
But I'd give them, and more beside,
For one good romp with you, dear Fanny.
I long to hear about the girls,
To talk of old times and school-tricks over,
Where we should dance the hour away,
Quite undisturbed by beau or lover!
What pleasant days we used to have,
Chase butterflies from flower to flower;
And dress our dolls on holidays,
In that delicious grape-vine bower.
Ah! there were happy, happy days,
I wish the present to old Harry!
But that's vain to wish, I know—
How foolish people are to marry!
I want to see you very much,
When I get through this dissipation;
I'd like to come and spend a week,
You sent so kind an invitation;
Twill be a most delightful ride,
And then I'll get the gloves you bet me;
So, I'll come down to Sunnyside,
That is—if Colonel B. will let me!
New York Mirror,