 | The poetical works of George Keate |  |
272
A NUPTIAL ODE, ADDRESSED TO A FRIEND,
On the Marriage of his Daughter.
I
Sweet is the Music of the Muse's Lyre,When splendid Themes her magic Notes inspire,
Whether she sings embattled Hosts,
And gives to perish'd Annals Fame,
Or of some favor'd Hero boasts,
And raptur'd, consecrates his Name,
Or bids obedient Passions wait her Call,
The Sigh to Sorrow heave, the Tear to Mis'ry fall!
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II
But far more sweet her Song, when all her ArtAims to give Transport to the human Heart;
When she in soothing Strains reveals
Whate'er sublimest Virtue knows,
All that each soft Affection feels,
And Life's most happy Hour bestows,
With Reason's Voice the Woes of Man disarms,
Paints Love's exalted Joys, and Friendship's sacred Charms.
III
With ravish'd Eye she views this Festive Day,And dedicates to Thee, my Friend, her Lay.—
She marks the Torch of Hymen blaze,
And sees around the chosen Band,
And Thee, with fond parental Gaze,
Lead up a Daughter by the Hand,
All rob'd in White, with Looks of artless Truth
And ev'ry blushing Grace that waits on virgin Youth.
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IV
Such modest Semblance Virtue only wears,And such alone th'ingenuous Mind declares;
Then onward lead her—Anxious waits
The Bridegroom to receive his Prize,
While ev'ry Hope his Breast elates,
And Transport dances in his Eyes;
To Honor's noblest Feelings ever true,
A Lover worthy Her—A Choice most worthy You.
V
Now at the Altar, lo! the Ring is giv'n,The mutual Vow is pledg'd—Confirm it Heav'n!—
Genii, who conduct our Pleasures,
Join the Hymeneal Train,
Pour around them Love's best Treasures,
Heart to Heart still more enchain;
And let the Muse, twining the Myrtle Wreath,
To Thee, my valu'd Friend, her fond Prediction breath.
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VI
Oh! if aright she reads the Book of Fate,New Joys for thee shall This Day's Act create;
The Virtues of this wedded Pair
Shall warm your Hopes, shall live your Theme;
The Future, brightest Sunshine wear,
The Past, be shadow'd as a Dream;
To Thee, each Mark of cordial Love be shown,
And they, like me, shall prize, that Worth I long have known.
| The poetical works of George Keate | |