The Wedding

When Cinderella wed the Prince She thought him all her Fancy Painted, And this was not surprising since They were not very Well Acquainted. While he, not dreaming where she got Glass slippers, counted on a Dot.

The Prince was Brave, Industrious, Wise: Brave in bright Silks and Satins gay, Wise in the Lore of Ladies’ Eyes, And most Industrious--at Play; A Leader, too--in Fashion’s Set; And Deep--that is to say, in Debt.

Who was the Somebody of Note? (I never could remember names) Was it Mark Twain or Mr. Choate Or Mrs. Ward or Henry James That penn’d those words of Wise Import, “Who weds in haste repents--in court”?

But let us not Anticipate. The Princess wore a Plain Gold Frock; No Fairy Dress to spoil the fête By vanishing at Twelve o’clock. This time no Spell her pleasure blighted-- Her god-mamma was not invited.

Not that she really meant to flout Her Benefactress; but you see She had not told the Prince about Her Fairy Godmother, lest he Might change his mind if he foresaw A Fairy God-mamma-in-law.

A Fairy may be Good or Ill, A Godmother Morose or Gay; A Mother-in-law, say what you will, Is not immortal any way. But wouldn’t it a Bridegroom stun To think of all three rolled in one?