How merrily we passed that nursing bottle!

A curly headed patriarch of three—

The Princess Ida’s uncle—then proposed

The happy couple’s health—the bridesmaids, then,

Fifteen in number—each six weeks of age,

Began to weep—the fifteen groomsmen, too

(The eldest of them eighteen months or so),

Wept also—then, remembering they were men,

Dashed from their eyes the unaccustomed brine!

We parted then—and since, for twenty years,