WHAT THOUGH WE WERE RIVALS OF YORE.

A ROMANCE. BY HAYNES BAYLY.

I.
"What though we were rivals of yore,
It seems you the victor have proved,
Henceforth we are rivals no more,
For I must forget I have loved.
You tell me you wed her to-day,
I thank you for telling the worst;
Adieu then! to horse, and away!—
But, hold!—let us drink her health first!
II.
"Alas! I confess I was wrong
To cope with so charming a knight;
Excelling in dance, and in song,
Well-dress'd, debonnaire, and polite!
So, putting all envy aside,
I take a new flask from the shelf;
Another full glass to the bride,
And now a full glass to yourself.
III.
"You'll drink a full bumper to me,
So well I have borne my defeat?
To the nymphs who the bridemaids will be,
And to each of the friends you will meet.
You are weary?—one glass to renew;
You are dozing?—one glass to restore;
You are sleeping?—proud rival, adieu!
Excuse me for locking the door."
IV.
There's a fee in the hand of the priest!
There's a kiss on the cheek of the bride!
And the guest she expected the least
Is He who now sits by her side!
Oh, well may the loiterer fail,
His love is the grape of the Rhine;
And the spirit most sure to prevail
Was never the spirit of wine.