The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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The Wedding Day.
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
The Wedding Day.
'Twas one May morning, when the clouds undrawn,
Expos'd, in naked charms, the waking dawn;
When night-fall'n dews, by day's warm courtship, won,
From reeking roses, climb'd, to kiss the sun.
Nature, new-blossom'd, shed her odours round;
The dew-bent primrose kiss'd the breeze-swept ground.
The watchful cock had, thrice, proclaim'd the day,
And glimmering sun-beams faintly forc'd their way:
When, join'd, in hand, and heart, to church we went,
Mutual, in vows, and pris'ners, by consent.
Aurelia's heart beat high, with mix'd alarms,
But trembling beauty glow'd, with double charms.
In her soft breast, a modest struggle rose,
How she should seem to like the lot, she chose.
A smile, she thought, would dress her looks too gay;
A frown might seem too sad, and blast the day:
But, while nor this, nor that, her will cou'd bow,
She walk'd, and look'd, and charm'd—and knew not how.
Expos'd, in naked charms, the waking dawn;
When night-fall'n dews, by day's warm courtship, won,
From reeking roses, climb'd, to kiss the sun.
Nature, new-blossom'd, shed her odours round;
The dew-bent primrose kiss'd the breeze-swept ground.
The watchful cock had, thrice, proclaim'd the day,
And glimmering sun-beams faintly forc'd their way:
When, join'd, in hand, and heart, to church we went,
Mutual, in vows, and pris'ners, by consent.
173
But trembling beauty glow'd, with double charms.
In her soft breast, a modest struggle rose,
How she should seem to like the lot, she chose.
A smile, she thought, would dress her looks too gay;
A frown might seem too sad, and blast the day:
But, while nor this, nor that, her will cou'd bow,
She walk'd, and look'd, and charm'd—and knew not how.
Our
hands, at length, th' unchanging fiat bound,
And our glad souls sprung out, to meet the sound.
Joys, meeting joys, unite, and stronger shine,
For passion, purify'd, grows half divine.
Aurelia, thou art mine, I cry'd—and she
Sigh'd soft—now, Damon, thou art lord of me.
But, wilt thou, whisper'd she, the knot now, ty'd,
Which only death's keen weapon can divide,
Wilt thou, still mindful of thy raptures past,
Permit the summer of love's hope, to last?
Shall not cold wint'ry frosts come on too soon?
Ah, say! what means the world, by honey moon?
If we so short a space our bliss enjoy,
What toils does love, for one poor month, employ?
Women, thus us'd, like bubbles, blown with air,
Owe, to their owtward charms, a sun-guilt glare.
Like them, we glitter, to the distant eye;
But grasp'd like them, we do but weep and die.
And our glad souls sprung out, to meet the sound.
Joys, meeting joys, unite, and stronger shine,
For passion, purify'd, grows half divine.
Aurelia, thou art mine, I cry'd—and she
Sigh'd soft—now, Damon, thou art lord of me.
But, wilt thou, whisper'd she, the knot now, ty'd,
Which only death's keen weapon can divide,
Wilt thou, still mindful of thy raptures past,
Permit the summer of love's hope, to last?
Shall not cold wint'ry frosts come on too soon?
Ah, say! what means the world, by honey moon?
If we so short a space our bliss enjoy,
What toils does love, for one poor month, employ?
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Owe, to their owtward charms, a sun-guilt glare.
Like them, we glitter, to the distant eye;
But grasp'd like them, we do but weep and die.
Lest more, said I, thou shoud'st profane the bliss,
I'll seal thy dang'rous lips, with this close kiss;
Not thus, the heav'n of Marriage hopes blaspheme,
But learn from me to speak on this lov'd theme.
There have been wedlock joys, of swift decay,
Like light'ning, seen, at once, and shot away:
But theirs were hopes, which, all unfit to pair,
Like fire, and powder, kiss'd, and flash'd, to air.
Thy soul, and minc, by mutual courtship, won,
Meet, like two mingling flames, and make but one.
Union of hearts, not hands, does marriage make;
'Tis sympathy of mind keeps love awake.
Our growing days increase of joy shall know,
And thick-sown comforts leave no room, for woe.
Thou, the soft swelling vine, shall fruitful last;
I, the strong elm, will prop thy beauties fast:
Thou shalt strow sweets, to soften life's rough way,
And, when hot passions my proud wishes sway,
Thou, like some breeze, shall, in my bosom, play.
Thou, for protection, shalt, on me, depend;
And I, on thee, for a soft, faithful friend.
I, in Aurelia, shall for ever view,
At once, my care, my fear, my comfort, too!
Thou shalt first partner, in my pleasures, be,
But all my pains shall, last, be known to thee.
I'll seal thy dang'rous lips, with this close kiss;
Not thus, the heav'n of Marriage hopes blaspheme,
But learn from me to speak on this lov'd theme.
There have been wedlock joys, of swift decay,
Like light'ning, seen, at once, and shot away:
But theirs were hopes, which, all unfit to pair,
Like fire, and powder, kiss'd, and flash'd, to air.
Thy soul, and minc, by mutual courtship, won,
Meet, like two mingling flames, and make but one.
Union of hearts, not hands, does marriage make;
'Tis sympathy of mind keeps love awake.
Our growing days increase of joy shall know,
And thick-sown comforts leave no room, for woe.
Thou, the soft swelling vine, shall fruitful last;
I, the strong elm, will prop thy beauties fast:
Thou shalt strow sweets, to soften life's rough way,
And, when hot passions my proud wishes sway,
Thou, like some breeze, shall, in my bosom, play.
175
And I, on thee, for a soft, faithful friend.
I, in Aurelia, shall for ever view,
At once, my care, my fear, my comfort, too!
Thou shalt first partner, in my pleasures, be,
But all my pains shall, last, be known to thee.
Aurelia heard, and view'd me, with a smile,
Which seem'd, at once, to cherish and revile?
O, God of Love! she cry'd, what joys were thine,
If all life's race were wedding-days, like mine!
Which seem'd, at once, to cherish and revile?
O, God of Love! she cry'd, what joys were thine,
If all life's race were wedding-days, like mine!
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |