THE WEDDING.

The poem

A FEAST was in a village spread,-- It was a wedding-day, they said. The parlour of the inn I found, And saw the couples whirling round, Each lass attended by her lad, And all seem'd loving, blithe, and glad; But on my asking for the bride, A fellow with a stare, replied: "'Tis not the place that point to raise!

We're only dancing in her honour; We now have danced three nights and days,

And not bestowed one thought upon her."

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Whoe'er in life employs his eyes Such cases oft will recognise.

                                1821.*