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While o'er her features play
The thoughts she cannot hide,
Whose soft expression seems to say,
I am thy happy bride.
The thoughts she cannot hide,
Whose soft expression seems to say,
I am thy happy bride.
No cold vain look is there,
But all is soft and meek;
Upon her virgin forehead fair,
And o'er her dimpled cheek,
A something soft and warm,
That round her seems to glide,
Envolves as with a heavenly charm
The young and spotless bride.
But all is soft and meek;
Upon her virgin forehead fair,
And o'er her dimpled cheek,
A something soft and warm,
That round her seems to glide,
Envolves as with a heavenly charm
The young and spotless bride.
There's a whispered vow of love,
As side by side they stand,
And the drawing of a snow-white glove
From a little trembling hand,
And the glitter of a ring,
And a tear that none may chide—
These, these have changed that girlish thing,
And she is now a bride.
As side by side they stand,
And the drawing of a snow-white glove
From a little trembling hand,
And the glitter of a ring,
And a tear that none may chide—
These, these have changed that girlish thing,
And she is now a bride.
No shadow dims her brow—
She feels without a fear
The trusting love, that all may know,
Who wed in their own sphere;
And he, who clasps her now,
All flushed with love and pride,
She feels without a fear
The trusting love, that all may know,
Who wed in their own sphere;
And he, who clasps her now,
All flushed with love and pride,
