Poems (Holmes)/To a Bride
To a Bride.
'Tis sad, fair girl, to breathe With thee a parting knell,And from our circle lose A form we've loved so well.
But change informs us now Thy girlish years are o'er,And we, alas! must part, Perhaps to meet no more.
But thou hast well improved Youth's swiftly gliding hours,As bees the honey sip In sunshine from the flowers.
And now an orange wreath Encircles thy fair brow,And we at the altar wait To hear the bridal vow.
Oh may conjugal bliss Thy path with roses strew,And may thy chosen star - Shine ever bright and true;
And pure affection yield Its sweetest joys to thee,And all the hours of life Glide on in harmony.
May happiness increase With each returning day,And friendship's holy star, Light, cheer thee on thy way.
But ere we say farewell, Oh, hear our last request:Still in thy heart give place To us, thy bridal guest.