Delicately wrapped in a shroud of lace A tear trickled down her porcelain face She wiped her eyes and stood up straight And in anguish began her dutiful gait Closer and closer she came to the altar With each labored breath she began to falter Her face grew pale and her grew eyes dim Then she fell to the floor in longing of him It was long ago her heart was taken And unless she had him she would never awaken She had almost departed when she heard his voice He whispered softly that she had a choice Then louder became the frantic mutters As she took a breath and her eyes did flutter Squeezing his hand she then felt his embrace And all the color rushed back to her face Then she spoke, “It is only he who I will wed Without him I’d rather be dead.”