I am so glad that the sunshine has driven the clouds away,
For my dolly, my darling dolly, is going to be married to-day.
She has had a great many suitors—a dozen, I do declare—
And only last week, Wednesday, she refused a millionaire.
Sophie Read is his mother; she thought we'd feel so grand
That a doll with a diamond stud should offer my child his hand.
But Rose cares little for money, and she's given her heart away
To Charlie, the gallant sailor, who will make her his bride to-day.
Nora has made her a bride-cake with frosting as white as snow,
And I wove her bridal wreath from the tiniest flowers that blow;
And brother Harry has promised (he's ever so kind, I'm sure)
To lend them his beautiful yacht when they sail on their wedding tour.
We make believe it's the ocean, the lake in the Park, you know;
And Charlie, the little sailor, is so delighted to go.
Oh, my! he does look cunning in his suit of navy blue.
His mother, my most particular friend, is little Nelly Drew.
Look! they are coming, Mary. Oh, they are a lovely pair!
Charlie, the black-eyed sailor, and Rose with her golden hair.
Doesn't she look like a fairy peeping out from a fleecy cloud,
In that lovely dress and veil? But we mustn't talk out loud.
If I could just squeeze out a tear—I suppose it's the proper thing,
Since she is my only child—but indeed I would rather sing,
For the sun is shining brightly, and everything seems gay,
And to Charlie, the dear little sailor, my dolly is married to-day.