If in our usual forms we go, T’will terrify poor mortals so, They’ll scamper off like frightened rats, When followed by pursuing cats. Therefore I’ve thought our Godheads veiled, And in some human shape concealed, Might dare to go; so if t’is best, We’ll take the form each of some guest, As I am first ’mong sons of light, First choice is mine, and equal right, So, as the most important guest, I’ll be the officiating Priest. A shout of laughter and applause, Which shook Olympus’ base, arose, Each God said something wondrous smart, And every one then chose his part. Mars said he’d be the bridegroom’s father, And Mercury said he’d be his brother, And Vulcan rose and stammered out, That he would be the servant stout. With playful action Venus rose, And to the sire of heaven she bows; “With your high mightiness’ good leave,” Quoth Madam, “I’ll be Mrs. Reeve.” Laughing Apollo bet his eyes, She ne’er could swell to such a size, But if she did, he thought that he Should like her honored spouse to be. Momus the god of wit and mirth, Vowed then that he would visit earth, And go as grooms-man, when he’d be The spirit of the company. Huntress Diana, bow in hand, Declared that she would bridesmaid stand, And if they did oppose her there, As mad she’d be as a March hare. Up rose the Ruler of the skies, “T’is supper time,” the Monarch cries, “Think all are met in Yankee clime, So we must drink but little wine, And certainly be home by nine. Also be still as any mice, Or you’ll be sent off in a trice; For tho’ it’s time for toleration, Still steady habits rule the nation.” He spake, & turned to seek the feast, And likewise so did all the rest. At length arrived the eventful night, And though the stars shone cold & bright, Tho’ Boreas piped his loudest blast, And snow’s chill mantle earth o’ercast, The gods, who fear not wind nor weather, In mortal shapes soon flocked together. And sure no maker of a feast, Was ever like the Parson blest, For his great room from six till nine, Was filled with company divine. There in Louisa’s graceful mien, Was silver footed Iris seen, Spring’s lovely goddess you might spy In Theo’s ever laughing eye.