Posts Tagged ‘Easter’

Cupid’s Bad Aim

April 4, 2012

THROUGH days of Lent,
On sport intent,
Dan Cupid fashioned arrows,
And every day
His aim, they say,
He practiced on the sparrows.

Now, days of Lent
Myrtilla spent
In projects for adorning
A costly hat
Of splendor that
She’d wear on Easter morning.

Thus Cupid and Myrtilla planned
And toiled through Lenten weather
Till Easter day,
When, on the way
From church, they came together.

And Cupid laughed
And aimed a shaft
With skill and swiftness laden;
But, lo, the dart
Found not the heart,
But the headgear of the maiden!

“Ho, ho!” she cried
With saucy pride,
“You did it very neatly!
My hat was bare,
Your arrow there
Becomes it most completely.”

But, filled with shame
At wretched aim
And practice unavailing,
The pretty boy,
Bereft of joy,
Before her stood bewailing.

Then to his side
She stepped and cried:
“Cheer up, you silly Cupid!
That Love is blind
I’ve heard — I find
That Love is only stupid.

“Your skillful eye
Did aim awry,
‘Tis true, but what of that, sir?
If you were smart
You’d know my heart
Is in my Easter hat, sir!”

And Cupid smiled,
With joy beguiled,
And through the April weather
And meadows fair
That precious pair
Went o’er the hills together.

— San Francisco Call.

Lawton Constitution and Morning Press (Lawton, Oklahoma) Apr 23, 1908

The Easter Bonnet

April 3, 2010


What a bonnet it was! The very bandbox that it came in seemed to appreciate the value and magnificence it contained — such a substantial, well varnished, responsible bandbox. Up the steps the messenger carried it and rang the bell. Her husband felt a chill come such as that we experience when, according to the old gossip, somebody walks over our future grave.

It was Easter, and if one can’t have a new bonnet after the Lenten deprivation and abstinence, when is one entitled to one any way?

Mrs. Frontpew tried it on in the parlor and said her husband was a duck. Never was there a husband so good and kind and with such taste.

The door bell rang again. Another messenger boy came up.

“This is Mrs. Frontpew’s bonnet,” said the messenger. “The other one was left by mistake. It should have gone to Mrs. Slyly, next door.”

With a blanched face she gave back the bonnet and looked at her own. Bird for bird, feather for feather, flower for flower — it was the same as the other.

That is why Mrs. Frontpew was not in church on Easter and why Frontpew has been taking supper down town and looks like a man upon whom great woe is fallen.

How could he tell? The milliner merely showed him a pretty head-dress, and he ordered one made up like it.

But that’s like a man.

The Acton Free Press (Acton, Ontario) – Apr 11, 1895


Don’t make ’em like they use to — done killed with too much style —
Fixed up with birds an’ ribbons, till you know ’em half a mile;
They call ’em “Easter bonnets,” in the big store windows hung —
Ain’t nuthin’ like the bonnets that they wore when we was young!

How much completer, sweeter, and neater was the old
Time bonnet, shadin’ rosy cheeks an’ ringlets black an’ gold!
Plain, with no fixins on it — with a string o’ red an’ blue;
But a kiss beneath that bonnet was as sweet as honey-dew!

Don’t make ’em like they use to — done killed with too much style;
An’ yet — the girls that wear ’em give a feller sich a smile,
He kinder smooths it over — fergives ’em, so high-strung —
But they’re nuthin’ like the bonnets that they wore when we was young!

Title: Songs of the Soil ; Author: Frank Lebby Stanton
Publisher: D. Appleton & Co., 1894; Page: 166


Of all that’s told in prose or sonnet,
There’s nothing sweeter
Nor any neater
Than a pretty face,
With a queenly grace,
Beneath a charming Easter bonnet.

Of all the things, whene’er they con it,
To make men adder,
There’s nothing sadder
Than the awful bill —
Too big to kill —
For that expensive Easter bonnet.

[New York Commercial Advertiser.

Boston Evening Transcript – Mar 26, 1883

Folklore and Poetry for Easter

April 12, 2009



The Egg as the Subject of Romance and Legend in Various Countries.

In all ages and in all countries eggs have been the subject of legend and romance. At the Easter season, when the egg is a most palatable, as well as staple, article of food, it is particularly interesting to trace the various superstitions and legends that have been connected with it.

The ancient Finns believed that a mystic bird laid an egg in the lap of Vaimainon, who hatched it in his bosom. He let it fall in the water and it broke. The lower portion of the shell formed the earth, the upper the sky, the liquid white became the sun, the yolk the moon; while the broken bits of eggshell were turned into starts.

In Germany the egg is as much a feature of the gay Eastertide as in our own land, yet the hen, goose or duck is not held responsible for its existence, but to the pretty hares are accredited oviparous qualities, and a nest of sugar eggs presided over by a toy hare is the most favored gift among the young generation. It is the custom in German families on Easter eve to conceal a nest of real and sugar eggs among dried leaves in the garden, allowing happy children to enjoy an egg hunt on Easter morning.

One legendary reason given for the Easter egg is that in the fourth century the church forbade the use of eggs in Lent, but as this did not prevent the hens from laying them they accumulated so rapidly that it was found necessary to boil them and give them to the children for playthings. The little folks delighted to dye them in gay colors; hence the practice that has descended to the children of the present day.

A certain historian gives a very charming account of the marriage of Marguerite, of Austria, with Philibert, the Duke of Savoy. It is called marriage aux oeufs, because it seems it was Easter morning when the future wedded pair first met. The princess was keeping open house at one of her castles on the western slope of Alps, and Philibert, out on a hunting expedition in the neighborhood, came to pay his court to her. All the tenantry were dancing on the green; finally a hundred eggs were scattered in a level place and covered with sand. Lads and lassies, who longed to be lovers, came forward, hand in hand, to tread the measure of the national dance in the midst of the fragile obstructions on every side. If they managed to dance through without cracking one they were regarded as affianced, and not even the parents’ “nay” could then break up the match. Several had already tried and been unsuccessful, when the noble duke besought the beautiful princess to try the dance with him. Full of love, grace and the exhilaration of the moment, they fulfilled the difficult task and were greeted by the most enthusiastic cheers from the beholders. They were married, and on every succeeding Easter, this custom of the district of Bresse became a feature in the Easter rejoicings in the Duke’s realms.

Although we do not have this “Easter egg dancing” into matrimony in this country, it is not improbable that a latent Easter superstition in regard to times and seasons extends even to the marriage ceremony of the present day, if we are to judge from the many weddings that take place during Easter week each year.

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Apr 1, 1899


An Old Easter Bonnet.

I wish the Easter days were now like
Those that once I knew
When Jenny wore the bonnet plain,
with ribbon-bows of blue;
When we walked to Sunday meetin’
o’er the meadows green and sweet,
Where lilies waved in welcome,
with violets at our feet.

It ain’t the fancy fixin’s
I mind so much — the bills.
For birds an’ fluffy feathers —
all the fine new fangled frills;
For I know that fashion changes, —
that it rules the world complete;
But the old-time Easter bonnet
was so simple and so sweet!

Its ribbons matched the color
of the sky overhead.
An’ the lips that smiled beneath it
seemed to mean the words they said!
The lips that smiled so so sweetly —
never knowin’ any art. —
An’ the eyes whose sunny glances
made a light around your heart!

I’ve nothin’ ‘gainst the fashions —
they’ve got to have their day;
But I love the simple bonnets
of the far an’ far away;
An’ thinkin’ how she looked in ’em —
there, in the long ago.
I sigh, an’ praise the Lord
from whom all blessin’s used to flow!

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Apr 7, 1899


Elusive Spring.

We cannot hurry spring along
By writing dainty sonnets;
Nor will she hasten her approach
To greet beflowered bonnets.
The children of the earth may coax
In accents strong and steady;
Fair spring will grant her presence here
When she gets good and ready.

Nor will the auto painted fresh
And bright for springtime touring,
Or light canoe upon the bank,
Or on the stream a-curing,
Or e’en the signs “Keep off the Grass”
The slightest bit affect her;
She will not hump herself because
We want her and expect her.

We cannot hurry spring at all
By songlets or by sonnets;
She will not hasten her approach
To greet ye mammoth bonnets.
In fact, we dread to have her see
Such millinery gearing
For fear she might reverse her mind
And cancel her appearing.
–Boston Herald.

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Apr 5, 1909