 | The Poems of Thomas Davis |  |
52
THE MI-NA-MEALA.
I
Like the rising of the sun,Herald of bright hours to follow,
Lo! the marriage rites are done,
And begun the Mi-na-meala.
II
Heart to heart, and hand to hand,Vowed 'fore God to love and cherish,
Each by each in grief to stand,
Never more apart to flourish.
III
Now their lips, low whisp'ring, speakThoughts their eyes have long been saying,
Softly bright, and richly meek,
As seraphs first their wings essaying.
IV
Deeply, wildly, warmly, love—'Tis a heaven-sent enjoyment,
Lifting up our thoughts above
Selfish aims and cold employment.
53
V
Yet, remember, passion wanes,Romance is parent to dejection;
Nought our happiness sustains
But thoughtful care and firm affection.
VI
When the Mi-na-meala's flown,Sterner duties surely need you;
Do their bidding,—'tis love's own,—
Faithful love will say God speed you.
VII
Guard her comfort as 'tis worth,Pray to God to look down on her;
And swift as cannon-shot go forth
To strive for freedom, truth, and honour.
VIII
Oft recall—and never swerve—Your children's love and her's will follow;
Guard your home, and there preserve
For you an endless Mi-na-meala.
| The Poems of Thomas Davis | |