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 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,
93
