  Was it for this we loved: to settle down (Having once paid the necessary fee) In some nice suburb not too far from town, To eat and sleep and kiss complacently, Loving by rote as decent people do: Was it for this we hungered, I and you? A lover's vows are gossamer, they say; But we have registered our mutual vow For seven and sixpence, dearest. Yesterday There was but love to bind our hearts, but now We owe it to the Vicar to be good And love each other as we said we would. That promise at the altar is a link (Which only death can break) between us two; For every time I kiss you I shall think: 'How this would please the Vicar if he knew!' And we shall put our youthful dreams to bed, And so live on—long after we are dead. We are made one. One mind will serve us both. ('Oh yes, we think Locke's novels rather sweet!') In ever-living witness of our troth You'll serve the vegetables, I the meat... O happiness! It is our wedding day! Embrace me, dear: the Prayer Book says you may. |
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