* * * * * * *
"Wilt thou?" And (there you are!) profoundly stirred,
A gleam of hope strikes through me—wild, absurd ...
"No luck!" I sigh. "He's on it like a bird."
"I, Edward John"—and lonely at the back
I wish my name were Edward; I could hack
Myself that I was never christened Jack.
"I, Amabel (O Amabel!) take thee"—
I groan, and give profoundly at the knee:
"There, but for someone else," I say, "goes Me."
* * * * * * *
Fair friends o' mine, what is it tries to shove
My heart into my watch-chain, as above?
It can't be hopeless chills, it must be love.
Yet not for Amabel. No weight of care
Clogs me as I pursue that happy pair
Into the vestry and admire them there;
Save this: I take the clergyman aside—
"Tell me," I whisper—"you're the third I've tried—
Do I, or do I not, embrace the bride?"