Dear Ellen, your tales are all plenteously stored, With the joy of some bride and the wealth of her lord, Of her chariots and dresses, And worldly caresses, And servants that fly when she’s waited upon: But what can she boast if she weds unbeloved? Can she e’er feel the joy that one morning I proved, When I put on my new gown and waited for John?
— ROBERT BLOOMFIELD