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ESIDE the nuptial curtain bright,”
 * The bard of Eden sings,

“Young Love his constant lamp will light,
 * And wave his purple wings.”

But rain-drops from the clouds of care
 * May bid that lamp be dim,

And the boy Love will pout and swear
 * ’Tis then no place for him.

So mused the lovely Mrs. Dash
 * (’Tis wrong to mention names)

When for her surly husband’s cash
 * She urged in vain her claims.

“I want a little money, dear,
 * For Vandervoort and Flandin,

Their bill, which now has run a year,
 * To-morrow mean to hand in.”