TROTHPLIGHT.
115
My love cast down her dear, dark eyes
As if she fain would hide
From my fond sight
Her own delight,
Half shy yet happy bride.
As if she fain would hide
From my fond sight
Her own delight,
Half shy yet happy bride.
But blushes told the tale, instead,
As plain as words could speak,
In dainty red
That overspread
My darling's dainty cheek.
As plain as words could speak,
In dainty red
That overspread
My darling's dainty cheek.
For twice six years and more I watched
Her fairer grow each day,—
My babes were blest
Upon her breast,
And she was pure as they.
Her fairer grow each day,—
My babes were blest
Upon her breast,
And she was pure as they.
