A Nuptial Song

Miss Flaxman

In honour of a Knight and a King’s fair Daughter

Sir John Carr & Miss King

Come Oh all ye little Loves!
Presiding over cake and gloves,
Waft me on thy downy pinions
To Cytheroea’s sweet dominions,
Lay me on a bank of roses,
Where the queen thy mother dozes,
Then a quill I pray you steal
From the winged Hermes heel.
My ink must be Pactolus’ stream
No meaner ink would suit the theme
Would great Apollo lend his lyre
And just for once my hand inspire
Then might I write an epitha — 
 — lamium worthy of the day,
Then might I in high sounding verse
And strains divine my song rehearse
In honour of the knight I’d sing
Who weds the daughter of a king!

The errant knight so brave of old,
As chronicles have gravely told
After long rambling here and there,
Now up, now down, for many a year,
When many a Paynim foul he’d beaten,
And nearly ’scaped being killed and eaten!
When giants lay on field for dead,
When fiery dragons all were fled,
When he’d no griffon left to ride on,
Or magic steed that he could bide on,
Returned he then with armour battered
Sir Knight perhaps a little shattered
Be sure to find the constant fair,
Both knight and armour to repair,
And each when riveted with gold
Would many a tough encounter hold.

But ye have flown, ye little Loves!
With all the cake, and all the gloves!
Ye’ve left me here to go at random
Just like a what? Why like a tandem!
And should I chance to go astray
Or should my leader run away
Could I, unskillful hope to shun
The fate of rash Sir Phoebus’ son
Who four in hand, would fain be prime
Like heroes of the present time!
Losing a linch-pin, down he came!
Mark this ye whips and fear the same
For truly if ye do not alter,
Each whip-chord may become a halter!

So, now I’ve had my frolic out
Methinks I’ll gravely turn about,
Like tired nag, who seeks the stable
Or like the moral of a fable.

Long may the knight whom now I sing
Who weds the daughter of a king,
Sail smoothly down the stream of life
Nor touch upon the shores of strife,
Hope at the helm, his course to guide
Good humour smiling by his side,
Of all his voyages confessed,
This last the pleasantest, the best!