T0 M.I. F.
ON HER MARRIAGE-DAY, OCT. 26, 1857.
This day is bright with hope to thee,
And future joyance clings to thee;
The past of sorrow, care,or strife,
Is now no more—thou art a wife.
Or, if care lingers near thee still,
There's one to share thy good or ill—
To welcome, with thee, hope or joy,
Or meet reverses with alloy—
One who will share each thought of thine:
Oh! this is bliss almost divine.
To feel another's heart respond
To every thought of thine, and, feeling,
To be at once both wise and fond;
While time is still each heart revealing
Some brighter trait of heart or soul
Rebounding 'neath thy soft control,
And dearer, sweeter far to thee,
When thine in all its purity.
For who reveals each treasured thought
Unto the worldly giddy throng?
As if heart-worship could be bought,
Or sold, the wondering few among.
I knew thee in thy girlish day,
And thou wert grave as well as gay,
Which told thy spirit had its care,
Though mirth could also linger there;
For sun and shadow there must be,
To balance life's expectancy;
And woman's heart, and woman's mind,
Is purified when both's combined;
As darkened sorrow clouds the heart,
To leave it brighter, and depart.
I see thee in thy wedding hour,
That moment of love's thrilling power;
I see the blush, the tear, the smile,
Striving for mastery the while;
I see the fond confiding glance
That would each word of love enhance;
I see thee give thyself away—
'Tis done—and thou art his to-day.
Ob! may he keep that sacred gift—
A woman's love: his heart uplift
In one long, fervent, hopeful prayer,
To love, while life is beating there.
And though life's storm may o'er thee lower,
Thou'lt battle with its master-power,
And feel no shadow dark can be
While love lives on, and lives for thee.
It tempers all this world can bring
Of joy, or grief, to living thing.
So my first hope and wish for thee
Is love undying, fervent, free.
May every blessing on thee light,
My dearest Mary;—now, "Good-night."
And future joyance clings to thee;
The past of sorrow, care,or strife,
Is now no more—thou art a wife.
Or, if care lingers near thee still,
There's one to share thy good or ill—
To welcome, with thee, hope or joy,
Or meet reverses with alloy—
One who will share each thought of thine:
Oh! this is bliss almost divine.
To feel another's heart respond
To every thought of thine, and, feeling,
To be at once both wise and fond;
While time is still each heart revealing
Some brighter trait of heart or soul
Rebounding 'neath thy soft control,
And dearer, sweeter far to thee,
When thine in all its purity.
For who reveals each treasured thought
Unto the worldly giddy throng?
As if heart-worship could be bought,
Or sold, the wondering few among.
I knew thee in thy girlish day,
And thou wert grave as well as gay,
Which told thy spirit had its care,
Though mirth could also linger there;
For sun and shadow there must be,
To balance life's expectancy;
And woman's heart, and woman's mind,
Is purified when both's combined;
As darkened sorrow clouds the heart,
To leave it brighter, and depart.
I see thee in thy wedding hour,
That moment of love's thrilling power;
I see the blush, the tear, the smile,
Striving for mastery the while;
I see the fond confiding glance
That would each word of love enhance;
I see thee give thyself away—
'Tis done—and thou art his to-day.
Ob! may he keep that sacred gift—
A woman's love: his heart uplift
In one long, fervent, hopeful prayer,
To love, while life is beating there.
And though life's storm may o'er thee lower,
Thou'lt battle with its master-power,
And feel no shadow dark can be
While love lives on, and lives for thee.
It tempers all this world can bring
Of joy, or grief, to living thing.
So my first hope and wish for thee
Is love undying, fervent, free.
May every blessing on thee light,
My dearest Mary;—now, "Good-night."