To --- Maiden-Bride

O behold the fairy-child!

By her dolls four

Playing the maiden-bride.

Come rain or come sunshine,

She never gets bored

Playing the maiden-bride.

Amongst her mock mites,

Aged one to four,

She her love equally divides.

Oh, behold beauty’s pride!

Fresh as a newly sprung flower,

And purer than the holiest shrine.

Oh, her eyes are the kiss of dawn;

The glistening locks the glow of night;

And her looks?

Ah, the bloom of morn!

Her voice is soft and sweet;

She never howls aloud,

She quietly some times weeps.

On her fondest dream astride,

Through dusk and early dawn,

Rides on the maiden-bride.

Rides on the maiden-bride

To the thrills of Disney Land,

On her fondest dream astride.

With dawning mischief in her eyes,

And a baby-song blowing her lips,

Rides on the darling child.

O how I wish I could her kiss!

But would she grant the wish,

This lisping miss with tender lips?

duke the muse