Instead of thy fathers shall be thy children,
Whom thou mayest make princes in all the
I will make thy name to be remembered in all generations :
Therefore shall the people praise thee for ever and PSALM XLV. 10-17.
THE DEAD NUPTIAL.
Ir was a nuptial of the dead,
Hope was a corse when she was wed;
Her loathed bridegroom was Decay,
And Sorrow gave the bride away;
And the wedding-priest was Care,
And the bride-bed's fruit Despair.
JOHN TODHUNTER.
Forest Songs. (K. Paul.)
"So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not."
WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. Romeo and Juliet.
SIGNING THE NAMES.
How fair these names, how much unlike they look
To all the blurr'd subscriptions in my book:
The bridegroom's letters stand in row above,
Tapering yet stout, like pine-trees in his grove ;
While free and fine the bride's appear below,
As light and slender as her jasmines grow.
Mark now in what confusion stoop or stand
The crooked scrawls of many a clownish hand;
Now out, now in, they droop, they fall, they rise,
Like raw recruits drawn forth for exercise;
Ere yet reform'd and modell'd by the drill,
The free-born legs stand striding as they will.
Much have I tried to guide the fist along,
But still the blunderers placed their blottings wrong;
Behold these marks uncouth! how strange that men
Who guide the plough should fail to guide the pen ;
For half a mile the furrows even lie;
For half an inch the letters stand awry.
GEORGE CRABBE. The Parish Register.
A WEDDING BREAKFAST.
(From "The Wedding-Day.) THERE'S a breakfast, they knowThere always is so
On occasions like these, wheresoever you go. Of course there are "lots" of beef, potted and hung,
Prawns, lobsters, cold fowl, and cold ham, and
Hot tea, and hot coffee, hot rolls, and hot toast, Cold pigeon-pie (rook ?) and cold boil'd and cold roast,
Scotch marmalade, jellies, cold creams, colder ices
Blancmange, which young ladies say, so very nice is,
Rock-melons in thick, pines in much thinner slices,
Char, potted with clarified butter and spices,
Renewing an appetite long past its crisis-
Refined barley-sugar, in various devices,
Such as bridges, and baskets, and temples, and
grottoes-
And nasty French lucifer snappers with mottoes.
-In short, all those gimcracks together were met
Which people of fashion tell Gunter to get
When they give a grand déjeuner à la fourchette---
(A phrase which, though French, in our language
still lingers,
Intending a breakfast with forks and not fingers.) And see what a mountainous bride-cake !—a thing
By itself-with small pieces to pass through the ring! R. H. BARHAM.
Ingoldsby Legends. (R. Bentley and Son.)
Were useless there; for of necessity,
Their years and dispositions do accord so, They must wound one another.
MY MARRIAGE MORN.
As souls new-born, who hear their funeral knells
Tolled upon earth, wake, and rejoice on high,
I woke, and heard, clear-echoing thro' the sky,
The distant chiming of my marriage-bells.
Surely, dear God of Love, Thine own voice swells
With that sweet marriage-music, seeing that I
Love her with all my soul, that cannot die,
And Thou art He with whom love ever dwells.
Come with me, God, into Thy temple now;
Stand at the altar when we twain do meet ; Hear Thou, and judge our mutual marriage-vow, Sworn there, O God, before Thy judgment seat: Hear, judge, smile, bless us in that holy placeShe, Thou, and I, together, face to face.
S. K. COWAN. The Murmur of the Shells. (McCaw, Belfast.)
THE WEDDING MORN.
STILL on the cushion'd altar-step she knelt ;
And I, the elected lover, knelt beside.
She in her heart a little flutter felt,
Knowing so many eyes look'd on the bride.
Embroidery fell loose o'er her flower-crown'd head,
And show'd her cheeks a little white and pale ;
Yet sweetly touch'd with blush of lingering red,
Like new rose-leaves. Her courage did not fail.
"I will"; and then "I will"; and so we seal'd
The sacred bond, and we shall grow one heart;
And truth to two twin spirits be reveal'd,
Which baffled one. Now on the road we start.
God help us onward, for the years are long!
'Twill be keen fighting: yes: the foe is strong.
Poems. (Knights, Ipswich.)
Composed on the Eve of the Marriage of a Friend, in the Vale of Grasmere.
WHAT need of clamorous bells, or ribbons gay,
These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace?
Angels of love, look down upon the place,
Shed on the chosen vale a sun-bright day!
Even for such omen would the bride display
No mirthful gladness. Serious is her face,
Modest her mien; and she, whose thoughts keep
pace
With gentleness, in that becoming way
Will thank you. Faultless does the maid appear,
No disproportion in her soul, no strife:
But, when the closer view of wedded life
Hath shown that nothing human can be clear
From frailty, for that insight may the wife
To her indulgent lord become more dear.
W. WORDSWORTH.
PRESENTED BY A CHILD.
(From the German of Mahlman.)
To bind the rich twine of thy waving hair
Innocence brings thee a chaplet fair,
Where the leaf of the Myrtle darkly glows
Through buds of the white and crimson Rose;
Take the bright garland, young Bride! from Me,
Thus Love should be crowned by Purity!
With Summer the bud of the Rose will fall,
But the leaf of the Myrtle is green through all;
We liken thee, Rose! to Life's changeful show,
To its joys that come lightly and so depart;
Sweet Myrtle! we liken thy steadfast glow
To the Love of the faithful, unchanging heart!
DORA GREENWELL.
MAY each breathed sigh, each sob that swells Be lost in chimes of marriage-bells.
S. K. COWAN. The Murmur of the Shells. (McCaw, Belfast.)
EPITHALAMIUM.
I SAW two clouds at morning
Tinged with the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on,
And mingled into one:
I thought that morning cloud was blest,
It moved so sweetly to the west.
I saw two summer currents
Flow smoothly to their meeting,
And join their course with silent force,
In peace each other greeting:
Calm was their course through banks of green, While dimpling eddies play'd between.
Such be your gentle motion,
Till life's last pulse shall beat;
Like summer's beam, and summer's stream,
Float on in joy, to meet
A calmer sea, where storms shall cease,
A purer sky, where all is peace.
J. G. C. BRAINARD.
A BRIDAL SONG.
ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden-pinks, of odour faint;
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;
Primrose, first-born child of Ver,
Merry spring-time's harbinger,
With her bells dim ;
Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,
Lark-heels trim;
All dear Nature's children sweet,
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,
Blessing their sense!
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious, or bird fair,
Be absent hence!
The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor The boding raven, nor chough hoar, Nor chattering pie,
May on our bride-house perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring,
OUR lot is cast on pleasant days,
In not unpleasant places; Young ladies now have pretty ways, As well as pretty faces;
So never sigh for what has been,
And let us cease complaining
That we have loved when our dear Queen
VICTORIA was reigning.
Oh yes, young love is lovely yet,
With faith and honour plighted:
I love to see a pair so met,
Youth-Beauty-all united.
Such dear ones may they ever wear
The roses fortune gave them :
Ah, know we such a BLESSED PAIR ?
I think we do! GOD SAVE THEM!
FREDERICK LOCKER. London Lyrics. (K. Paul.)
FULL. many an age old Hymen had not spied So kind a bridegroom, or so bright a bride. ALEXANDER POPE.
I'VE greeted many a bonny bride
On many a bridal day,
In homes serene and summer-skied,
Where Love's spring-buds, with joy and pride,
Had blossomed into May;
But ne'er on lovelier bride than thine
Looked these delighted eyes of mine,
And ne'er in happier bridal bower
Than hers smiled rose and orange-flower
Through green leaves glad and gay,
When bridesmaids, grouped around her room
In youth's, in truth's, in beauty's bloom,
Entwined, with merry fingers fair,
Their garlands in her sunny hair;
Or bosomed them, with graceful art,
Above the beatings of her heart.
J. FITZ-GREENE HALLECK.
BLESSED is the bridegroom under shower or sun; Blessed is the bride whom love's light shines on. AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."
Thirty Years. (Macmillan.)
Dear wishes hovering round her life
And tending thoughts, and dreams divine,
To feed with perfect joy the wife
Whose happiness is mine.
W. C. BENNETT.
Baby May, &c. (K. Paul.)
A CONTRACT of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings.'
WILLIAM SHAKSPERE.
Twelfth Night.
PURE is the Temple wherein Love doth dwell,
Founded in Truth and reared in Charity,
And through its windows open to the sky
Evening and Morn their wondrous tale should tell ;
And clearer light, by men invisible,
Should lead the pilgrims through the columned aisle,
Or bid them stay their course and rest awhile,
As He shall will who orders all things well.
Into that Temple ye, young hearts and true,
Have found your way with steps sedate and
calm;
And Love shall guide you, making all things new,
Content to bear the cross, or wear the palm,
And, should the years be many or be few,
Still through its vaults shall ring your clear
melodious psalm.
YES, take your way upon the path of life,
And do your work while yet 'tis called to-day, And, as ye start, shall friends devoutly pray, That God may bless the husband and the wife. Linked are ye now for no ignoble strife,
Conflict with many a foe without, within, Tempters that oft their subtle victory win, And mar the joy wherewith the dawn was rife.
1 Formerly, in betrothals or espousals, the man received as well as gave a ring.
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