(from VALENTINES section)
I think I'm about forty-eight;
My income's six hundred per ann.;
And I'm rather desirous of changing my state,
For I feel quite assured I'm the man
Who by kindness, affection, and that sort of thing,
Would render a villa a heaven:
At the feet of your daughters my fortune I fling,
And will wed any one of the seven.
"Wedded bliss," "Joys of love," I'm aware you
Must be found in a banker's account;
On that score, at least, we agree, I believe
So, Madam, pray name the amount.
Georgina (the second) I'll marry at par,
Though her hair has too sunset a tint;
Or Lesbia (the fourth) who is plainer by far,
If a discount's allowed for the squint.
Your prudence has long been the theme of the ton,
For you've always an excellent "set,"
As though you consulted the stock-list alone
Nor were guided by Boyle and Debrett.
Your plan is the best - for a man feels secure
When your daughter he takes for a wife,
That her relatives can't be unpleasantly poor,
To pester hint out of his life.
An answer, per post, saying how you decide,
Will "lull my fond bosom's fierce flame,"
For I'm dying to know which fair girl is my bride,
In case some one asks me her name.
From your own early feelings you truly can guess,
What a fervid affection is mine
So to one of the seven I fondly confess
Until death I'm her own VALENTINE.
Punch, Jan.-Jun. 1842