My Intended. 
The gentleman I am to marry, 
Good soul! has an excellent heart ; 
But still ’tis fatiguing to parry : 
His nonsense about “ Cupid’s dart.” 
How careless !—I find, in my hurry, 
I have not once mentioned his name ; 
It is, love, Sir Marmaduke Curry ; 
He’s rather—mind, not very—lame. 
He says he must live in Barbadoes, 
He only came here for a wife ; 
So when I am married, away goes 
Your schoolfellow, dearest, for life! 
This match is, however, so pleasing 
To every one of my friends, 
That, though I at first found it teasing, 
Their happiness makes me amends. 
Besides, not a soul has a penny 
Of fortune amongst us, you know ; 
We're now all grown up—and so many !— 
I think I do wisely to go. 
Sir M. C. has promised to settle 
Upon me twelve hundred a year ; 
I’m sure I don’t care for “base metal” — 
Why can he not stay and live here P 
You cannot imagine the bustle 
The talk of this marriage has made ; 
Sir Marmaduke moves not a muscle— 
It strikes me, he’s rather afraid. 
I wish you could see all the malice 
Betrayed by the Misses who call ; 
Some guess [I shall “ live in a palace”— 
Some think that “ Sir M. is too tall.” 
“ Barbadoes is bad for the liver ;’— 
They ‘ wonder I can cross the sea ;’— 
They find that “ it quite makes them shiver, 
To think of such hardships” for me ;— 
And one of them ventured to whisper 
His name, as “ an old flame” of mine: 
Alas! dear, I needed not this spur— 
Yet think not, Matilda, I pine, 
I am, I assure you, too busy 
To dwell on or care for the past: 
What-can make my head feel so dizzy ? 
Perhaps I am writing too fast ! 
I really detest all the flurry 
Of choosing such lots of new clothes ; 
And dress-makers send (what a worry !) 
Such cargoes of “ white satin bows!” 
A beautiful veil of rich Mechlin, 
Sir Marmaduke bought me to-day, 
“To save my complexion from freckling,” 
His gallantry led him to say. 
d 
[May, 
