Poems (Freston)/The Golden Wedding
For works with similar titles, see The Golden Wedding.
THE GOLDEN WEDDING
(To the guests.)
In a land of beauty and old romance,
Many miles across the sea,
I once met a lassie, saucy and bold,
Who stole my heart from me.
Her eyes were the color of heaven's own blue
And her cheeks had the rose's glow;
They were flushed by a heart that beat healthy and true,
Full fifty years ago.
In a land of beauty and old romance,
Many miles across the sea,
I once met a lassie, saucy and bold,
Who stole my heart from me.
Her eyes were the color of heaven's own blue
And her cheeks had the rose's glow;
They were flushed by a heart that beat healthy and true,
Full fifty years ago.
As I gladly look about me here
On this goodly company,
There is none of them all that can even compare
With the girl that she used to be.
The girl that flew over the Connaught hills
With a step as light as a doe,—
She needed no paint nor powder nor frills
Just fifty years ago.
On this goodly company,
There is none of them all that can even compare
With the girl that she used to be.
The girl that flew over the Connaught hills
With a step as light as a doe,—
She needed no paint nor powder nor frills
Just fifty years ago.
She was ready to laugh at the hearts that were caught
In the strands of her chestnut curls,
And I smile even yet at the pranks she played,
For she was the wildest of girls,
She led me a dance that I'll not forget,
But at last I'd a chance to "crow,"
For I outstripped all rivals and won the prize
Just fifty years ago.
In the strands of her chestnut curls,
And I smile even yet at the pranks she played,
For she was the wildest of girls,
She led me a dance that I'll not forget,
But at last I'd a chance to "crow,"
For I outstripped all rivals and won the prize
Just fifty years ago.
(To the mother.)
And many the gifts that God sent us, wife,
For daughters and sons followed fast,
And each little hand drew the cords of love
Closer 'round each heart to the last.
And I often prayed that my boys might choose,—
As I watched them to manhood grow,—
A wife as true as their father won
Just fifty years ago.
And many the gifts that God sent us, wife,
For daughters and sons followed fast,
And each little hand drew the cords of love
Closer 'round each heart to the last.
And I often prayed that my boys might choose,—
As I watched them to manhood grow,—
A wife as true as their father won
Just fifty years ago.
Many a worry has jarred our life,
And many a cross word said,
But 'twas never the fault of the heart, dear wife,
'Twas always the fault of the head;
And those things slipped into the little graves
And were covered up with the woe,
That shadowed our hearthstone many a time,
Since fifty years ago.
And many a cross word said,
But 'twas never the fault of the heart, dear wife,
'Twas always the fault of the head;
And those things slipped into the little graves
And were covered up with the woe,
That shadowed our hearthstone many a time,
Since fifty years ago.
But there never was yet a cloud so dark
But some sunlight sifted through,
For you had ever my faithful love
And I ever the thought of you.
So hand clasped in hand we bravely met
And battled with every woe,—
With the strength that is known to united hearts,—
Since fifty years ago.
But some sunlight sifted through,
For you had ever my faithful love
And I ever the thought of you.
So hand clasped in hand we bravely met
And battled with every woe,—
With the strength that is known to united hearts,—
Since fifty years ago.
The years rolled on, with their sunshine and shade,
And your laugh was not quite so gay,
And the sun-kissed tresses began to fade,
As your youth was slipping away.
The blue of your eyes has dimmed, dear wife,
And age gave his crown of snow,
But you're fairer and dearer to me to-day
Than fifty years ago.
And your laugh was not quite so gay,
And the sun-kissed tresses began to fade,
As your youth was slipping away.
The blue of your eyes has dimmed, dear wife,
And age gave his crown of snow,
But you're fairer and dearer to me to-day
Than fifty years ago.
We have wandered many a weary mile
And oft were our eyelids wet,
But in spite of the sorrows that checked our smile
We never once knew regret;
For I know that your heart never wished unsaid
The vows that you whispered low,
As we bound our lives at the altar's foot
Just fifty years ago.
And oft were our eyelids wet,
But in spite of the sorrows that checked our smile
We never once knew regret;
For I know that your heart never wished unsaid
The vows that you whispered low,
As we bound our lives at the altar's foot
Just fifty years ago.
The journey is almost over, wife,
We shall soon be nearing the goal,
But we've left many mile-stones to mark our way,
That will still bear the stamp of each soul;
And many a fireside we never may see,
Shall hear memories oft spoken low,
Of you and of me, who were bride and groom,
Just fifty years ago.
We shall soon be nearing the goal,
But we've left many mile-stones to mark our way,
That will still bear the stamp of each soul;
And many a fireside we never may see,
Shall hear memories oft spoken low,
Of you and of me, who were bride and groom,
Just fifty years ago.
(To the guests.)
Now fill your glasses and drink a toast
To all that I mean to name,—
To the girls and the boys that have blessed our home,
And the children that to them came.
To the alien branches grafted on
This good old family tree!
And oh! my native land to-day,
We'll drink a toast to thee!
But the fullest bumper of all, I say,
You'll drain before you go,
To the bonny bride your father won
Just fifty years ago.
Now fill your glasses and drink a toast
To all that I mean to name,—
To the girls and the boys that have blessed our home,
And the children that to them came.
To the alien branches grafted on
This good old family tree!
And oh! my native land to-day,
We'll drink a toast to thee!
But the fullest bumper of all, I say,
You'll drain before you go,
To the bonny bride your father won
Just fifty years ago.