Skip to content
1849–1906

II. UP THE AISLE. A. D. 1881.

George Augustus Baker

Take my cloak — and now fix my veil, Jenny;— How silly to cover one's face! I might as well be an old woman, But then there's one comfort — it's lace.

Well, what has become of those ushers?— Oh, Pa, have you got my bouquet? I'll freeze standing here in the lobby, Why does n't the organist play?

They've started at last — what a bustle! Stop, Pa!— they're not far enough — wait! One minute more — now! Do keep step, Pa! There, drop my trail, Jane!— is it straight?

I hope I look timid, and shrinking! The church must be perfectly full — Good gracious, please do n't walk so fast, Pa! He do n't seem to think that trains pull.

The chancel at last — mind the step, Pa!— I do n't feel embarrassed at all — But, my! What's the minister saying? Oh, I know, that part‘ bout Saint Paul.

I hope my position is graceful — How awkwardly Nelly Dane stood! “Not lawfully be joined together, Now speak” — as if any one would.

Oh, dear, now it's my turn to answer — I do wish that Pa would stand still. “Serve him, love, honor, and keep him” — How sweetly he says it — I will.

Where's Pa?— there, I knew he'd forget it When the time came to give me away — “I, Helena, take thee — love — cherish — And” — well, I can n't help it,— “obey.”

Here, Maud, take my bouquet — do n't drop it — I hope Charley's not lost the ring! Just like him!— no — goodness, how heavy! It's really an elegant thing.

It's a shame to kneel down in white satin — And the flounce real old lace — but I must — I hope that they've got a clean cushion, They're usually covered with dust.

All over — ah, thanks!— now, do n't fuss, Pa!— Just throw back my veil, Charley — there! Oh, bother! Why could n't he kiss me Without mussing up all my hair!

Your arm, Charley, there goes the organ — Who'd think there would be such a crowd! Oh, I must n't look round, I'd forgotten, See, Charley, who was it that bowed?

Why — it's Nellie Allaire, with her husband — She's awfully jealous, I know, Most all of my things were imported, And she had a home-made trousseau.

And there's Annie Wheeler — Kate Hermon — I did n't expect her at all — If she's not in that same old blue satin She wore at the Charity Ball!

Is that Fanny Wade?— Edith Pommeton — And Emma, and Jo — all the girls! I knew they'd not miss my wedding — I hope they'll all notice my pearls.

Is the carriage there?— give me my cloak, Jane, Do n't get it all over my veil — No! you take the other seat, Charley — I need all of this for my trail.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
II. UP THE AISLE. A. D. 1881. · George Augustus Baker · Poetry Cove