THE WEDDING MARCH.
Copyright, 1887, by F. Harding.
A wedding, whether large or small,
I always like to see;
I form my own conclusions,
While the rest are full of glee.
The wedding bells, of course, have tongues,
And every time they ring
I understand their language,
For I always hear them sing:
There goes another one, it happens every day;
Ding, dong, march along! Isn't he a jay?
His wife will take him bye-and-bye and place him on the shelf,
There goes another man who's made a gilly of himself.
The night before he's married,
He must bid his pals good-bye;
The last drink of a single life
He swallows with a sigh.
Next day the job is finished,
And he's thankful that it's through;
He thinks the bells are cheering him,
Ahl if he only knew----Chorus.
'Tis only in the after years
The truth of it comes out;
His temper and his hair has gone,
And happiness, no doubt.
The pride is taken out of him,
And likewise all the starch;
And he says whene'er he hears
Another fellow's wedding march:-Chorus.