Poems (Curwen)/Grandma's Golden Wedding
Grandma's Golden Wedding.
'Tis the old folks golden wedding day.
Fancy! fifty years ago to-day
Since grandmamma, a blushing bride,
Went forth to stand at grandpa's side
To vow through all her future life
To be his faithful loving wife.
Then, in all their youthful pride,
They stood together side by side:
She so smart in her bridal array,
He with his curly locks so gay;
She with brown eyes tearful and shy,
He with a twinkle in his blue eye;
She with her modest gaze bent down,
Her young heart throbbing beneath her gown,
As he took in his her trembling hand,
And slipped on her finger the golden band—
The little ring, now so thin and worn,
Which made her his that bridal morn.
Now, on their golden wedding day,
With their once bright locks silver and grey,
They sit in the shadow of eventide
Recalling life's fair morning-tide;
With all the sorrow that has been their's—
All their trials, joys, troubles, and cares,
All the rough paths their feet have trod,
The children lying beneath the sod;
All the hopes and the anxious fears
Their hearts have known in fifty years,
While sailing life's stormy sea together,
Experiencing all sorts of weather;
Now, in the calm of life's eventide,
They are drifting slowly side by side
Down stream, towards where shadows hide
The Land of Rest, on the "other side."
May they who have shared this life so long
Share the joys that to that land belong!
Fancy! fifty years ago to-day
Since grandmamma, a blushing bride,
Went forth to stand at grandpa's side
To vow through all her future life
To be his faithful loving wife.
Then, in all their youthful pride,
They stood together side by side:
She so smart in her bridal array,
He with his curly locks so gay;
She with brown eyes tearful and shy,
He with a twinkle in his blue eye;
She with her modest gaze bent down,
Her young heart throbbing beneath her gown,
As he took in his her trembling hand,
And slipped on her finger the golden band—
The little ring, now so thin and worn,
Which made her his that bridal morn.
Now, on their golden wedding day,
With their once bright locks silver and grey,
They sit in the shadow of eventide
Recalling life's fair morning-tide;
With all the sorrow that has been their's—
All their trials, joys, troubles, and cares,
All the rough paths their feet have trod,
The children lying beneath the sod;
All the hopes and the anxious fears
Their hearts have known in fifty years,
While sailing life's stormy sea together,
Experiencing all sorts of weather;
Now, in the calm of life's eventide,
They are drifting slowly side by side
Down stream, towards where shadows hide
The Land of Rest, on the "other side."
May they who have shared this life so long
Share the joys that to that land belong!