The Lover’s Calendar for the Year 1815
In Almanacs Lucy, we gravely are told
That the month of November is gloomy and cold,
That it’s windy in March, and pleasant in May,
That the sun rises usually every day.
Of meteors and comets, and twenty things more,
But give me for my calendar her I adore.
Her smiles and her tears are my sunshine and rain
Her absence is darkness, and frost her disdain,
The moment of meeting is sunrise to me
And a partial eclipse in each rival I see.
Common Almanacs tell of the moon and her phases,
Mine shows me dear Woman’s more varying graces.
Let Moore tell the changes of season and wind,
While Lucy displays all the changes of mind.
No zephyr is milder than Lucy — when pleased,
But once I remember some jealous whim seized
And not Boreas enraged could more turbulent prove
Than my pretty Barometer, Maid of my Love!
Nay frown not my Lucy, I am but in jest,
For change as you please, still I love you the best,
Then give me your hand, vow to love and obey,
And our wedding we’ll keep, as a Red-letter Day.
Augustus