English poem
On a Lady's Wedding Being on the Twenty-first of December
by Anonymous
Return'd from the op'ra, as lately I sat, Indiff'rently chatting of this thing and that, My Chloe I ask'd, how it enter'd her head, To fix on St. Thomas's, of all days to wed? To which she replied, with reason the strongest, "Tho' shortest the day is—the night, Sir, is longest."