THERE never yet was flower fair in vain, 127 There hath been something for true freedom I was the crescent; thou wrought, Some bulwark levelled on the evil side: I THOUGHT our love at full, but I did err; The silver phantom of the perfect sphere, Our lives united shine, and many a year IV. God knew his chosen time. Joy's wreath drooped o'er mine eyes; I could not He bade me slowly ripen to my prime, see That sorrow in our happy world must be JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. POSSESSION. I. "It was our wedding-day A month ago," dear heart, I hear you say. And all stood back, and none my right denied, I count my life: the Past is washed away. II. It was no dream, that vow: It was the voice that woke me from a dream, A happy dream, I think; but I am waking now, And drink the splendor of a sun supreme That turns the mist of former tears to gold. The fleeting promise, chased so long in vain : And from my boughs withheld the promised fruit, Thy blessing is: I have thee day and night : BAYARD TAYLOR. THE DAY RETURNS, MY BOSOM BURNS. THE day returns, my bosom burns, The blissful day we twa did meet; While day and night can bring delight, Comes in between to make us part, ROBERT BURNS. THE POET'S BRIDAL-DAY SONG. O, MY love 's like the steadfast sun, Nor hoary hairs, nor forty years, Nor moments between sighs and tears, Nor nights of thought, nor days of pain, Nor dreams of glory dreamed in vain, Nor mirth, nor sweetest song that flows To sober joys and soften woes, Can make my heart or fancy flee, One moment, my sweet wife, from thee. Even while I muse, I see thee sit As when, beneath Arbigland tree, We stayed and wooed, and thought the moon Set on the sea an hour too soon; Or lingered mid the falling dew, When looks were fond and words were few. Though I see smiling at thy feet Five sons and ae fair daughter sweet, They come, my love, they come from thee. O, when more thought we gave, of old, At times there come, as come there ought, A mother's heart shine in thine eye, ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. THE POET'S SONG TO HIS WIFE. How many summers, love, Have I been thine ? How many days, thou dove, Hast thou been mine? Time, like the wingéd wind Hath left no mark behind, Some weight of thought, though loath, Some lines of care round both Perhaps he weaves ; Some fears, - a soft regret Sweet looks we half forget; Ah!-With what thankless heart I mourn and sing! Look, where our children start, With tongues all sweet and low To thee and time! BARRY CORNWALL. IF THOU WERT BY MY SIDE, MY LOVE. IF thou wert by my side, my love, If thou, my love, wert by my side, I miss thee at the dawning gray, I miss thee when by Gunga's stream I spread my books, my pencil try, But when at morn and eve the star I feel, though thou art distant far, Then on! then on! where duty leads, My course be onward still, O'er broad Hindostan's sultry meads, O'er bleak Almorah's hill. As sweet your face might be that day as now it is, 't is true; But did I know your heart as well when this old ring was new ? JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO. JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, ROBERT BURNS. Young loving hearts your care each day makes yet more like to you, More like the loving heart made mine when this old ring was new. THE WORN WEDDING-RING. YOUR wedding-ring wears thin, dear wife; ah, summers not a few, And blessed be God! all he has given are with us yet; around Since I put it on your finger first, have passed o'er me and you; Our table every precious life lent to us still is found. And, love, what changes we have seen, cares and pleasures, too, what Since you became my own dear wife, when this old ring was new! Though cares we've known, with hopeful hearts the worst we've struggled through; Blessed be his name for all his love since this old ring was new! |