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The sanction of approving Heaven
To marriage-ring, and roof, and dower;
When she, a Wife, in matron pride,
Stood, life-devoted, at thy side;
When happy lips had pressed her cheek,
And happiest lips her “bonny mou’,”
And she had smiled with blushes meek,
On my congratulating bow,
A sunbeam, balmy with delight,
Entranced, subdued me, till I quite
Forget my anti-nuptial vow,
And almost asked, with serious brow
And voice of true and earnest tone,
The bridesmaid with the prettiest face
To take me, heart and hand, and grace
A wedding of my own.

Time’s years, it suits me not to say
How many, since that joyous day,
Have watched and cheered thee on thy way
O’er Duty’s chosen path severe,
And seen thee, heart and thought full grown,
Tread manhood’s thorns and tempters down,
And win, like Pythian charioteer,
The wreaths and race-cups of renown—
Seen thee, thy name and deeds, enshrined
Within the peerage-book of mind—
And seen my morning prophecy
Truth-blazoned on a noonday sky,