THE BRIDE.
A fringe of dewy leaves,
Along the branches droop,
That overhang the cottage-eaves,
Where stand a bridal group;
In fair and laughing bands
The maidens, far and wide,
Have brought fresh roses in their hands,
To crown the fair young bride.
Along the branches droop,
That overhang the cottage-eaves,
Where stand a bridal group;
In fair and laughing bands
The maidens, far and wide,
Have brought fresh roses in their hands,
To crown the fair young bride.
Before the man of prayer,
They slowly gather round,
As silent as the floating air,
That floats without a sound,
As, with a downcast brow,
Close to her lover's side,
Comes forth in raiment white as snow
The young and timid bride.
They slowly gather round,
As silent as the floating air,
That floats without a sound,
As, with a downcast brow,
Close to her lover's side,
Comes forth in raiment white as snow
The young and timid bride.
How beautiful she seems,
As o'er her soft brown hair
The sunset flings its golden gleams,
And forms a halo there,
As o'er her soft brown hair
The sunset flings its golden gleams,
And forms a halo there,
