Who is this man who may enter the room,
Placidly certain his presence must please,
Settle her colours, select her perfume,
Hands in his pockets serenely at ease:

Who can the girl be, and who is the man?
Light-hearted creatures who live but to love!
'Tis the result of the Angels' kind plan,
One of the marriages made up above!

Hand laid in hand to the stairs we advance,
Feet scarcely touching the carpet at all:
Why should they walk who are able to dance?
Clasping each other, we waltz through the hall!

Pleasant the drive in the twilight's soft gloom;
Dazzling the change to society's light;
Proud of my Harry I enter the room,
Every eye on my gallant young knight.

Lovely the welcome around me I see--
Will it be thus through a beautiful life?
Everybody attentive to me,
And only because I am Harry's wife?

Dear to my heart are the glitter and grace;
But nothing so charming, or bright, is here
As the gracious smile upon Harry's face,
Or his manly voice as it greets my ear.