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The Worlds of Gilbert and Sullivan

To My Bride¹

(Whoever She May Be)

Oh! Little maid! - (I do not know your name,

Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution

I’ll add) - Oh, buxom widow! Married dame!

(As one of these must be your present portion)

Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you,

And sing the fate that fortune has in store for you.

You’ll marry soon – within a year or twain –

A bachelor of circa two-and-thirty,

Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain’

And, when you’re intimate, you call him “BERTIE”.

Neat – dresses well: his temper has been classified

As hasty: but he’s very quickly pacified.

You’ll find him working mildly at the Bar,

After a touch at two or three professions,

From easy affluence extremely far

A brief or two on Circuit – “soup” at Sessions:

A pound or two from whist and backing horses,

And, say, three hundred from his own resources.

Quiet in harness; free from serious vice,

His faults are not particularly shady;

You’ll never find him “shy” - for, once or twice

Already, he’s been driven by a lady,

Who parts with him

– perhaps a poor excuse for him –

Because she hasn’t any further use for him.

Oh! Bride of mine – tall, dumpy, dark, or fair!

Oh! Widow-wife, maybe, or blushing maiden,

I’ve told your fortune: solved the greatest care

With which your mind has hitherto been laden.

I’ve prophesised correctly, never doubt it;

Now tell me mine – and please be quick about it!

Footnote 1.    From: Sir W S Gilbert (orig 1874) (1951) ‘The Bab Ballads’ Macmillan & Co London ISBN 0333 03182 2 pp58-59.  Return to top of page.

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