University of Virginia Library


210

THE WORLD'S MARRIAGE.

The rough World, weary with his work,
One evening sat alone;
And said—Oh that I had a wife!
Purer then would be my life,
What follies have I done!
Stubborn and fierce, I'm full of sin,
Yet tenderness I feel within.
Sweet Poetry, love-worthiest maid,
Even then was wandering near,
And with her clear and silent eye
Fix'd on the clear and silent sky,
Watch'd for the earliest star;
And stood before the rough World's face
In majesty of bloom and grace.
Straight from his heart the morning broke,
Spread on each cheek a flush;
And as she turning saw him stand
In bearded beauty close at hand,
Love robed her in a blush;
She was the pale red moon at full,
Fronting the bright sun powerful.

211

They wedded, and a son was born,
His name they call'd—the New;
His earliest infancy was blest
With milk, and smiles, and bosom rest;
And as the nursling grew,
Father and mother in the boy
Saw themselves, with wondering joy.
His young heart was a morning heaven,
Broad, pure, and still;
Soon thoughts upbreathèd by desire,
Swelling, blending, mounting higher,
Like clouds his spirit fill;
Dark-bright the towering masses range,
Boding showery wind and change.
The father frowns, the mother sweet
Smiles upon her son;
'Mid freaks and waywardness of youth,
She marks his energy and truth;
And for new follies done,
Wise and gentle, well she knows
Some plea of love to interpose.
The rough World, ever comforted
And softened by his wife,
For her dear sake will much endure,
Himself he knows has not been pure,
And equal in his life;
His strength, her spirit, he would see,
Her thought, his practicalness, she.

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Thus waiting long, they watch and hope,
The boy in power grows;
His streaming energy the while,
Still spreading like the waves of Nile,
As widely overflows;
And not for spoil the waters rise,
Retiring, they shall fertilize.
“His blossoms first, now leaves he hath
Needful, though not so fair.”
Said Poetry, “So is our son
Like the almond and mezereon,
And ripe fruits he will bear:
This middle leafy strength hath he,
That flower in fruit may perfect be.”