The poetical works of Susanna Blamire "The Muse of Cumberland." Now for the first time collected by Henry Lonsdale; With a preface, memoir, and notes by Patrick Maxwell |
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ON THE MARRIAGE OF MISS JOHANNA GALE
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 | The poetical works of Susanna Blamire "The Muse of Cumberland." |  |
ON THE MARRIAGE OF MISS JOHANNA GALE
WITH THE REV. F. GRAHAM, RECTOR OF ARTHURET.
18TH FEBRUARY, 1792.
Once a grove of sweet myrtles soft Venus would rear,
And wreath it with roses around;
'Twas a green shade for Hope in each change of the year,
In which she lik'd best to be found.
Hymen mark'd out the spot, and would plant some sweet flower,
So he set down his gay torch the while,
Which Cupid snatch'd up to set fire to the bower,
For he joys in a mischievous wile.
And wreath it with roses around;
'Twas a green shade for Hope in each change of the year,
In which she lik'd best to be found.
Hymen mark'd out the spot, and would plant some sweet flower,
So he set down his gay torch the while,
Which Cupid snatch'd up to set fire to the bower,
For he joys in a mischievous wile.
The taper burnt clear, yet no leaf would consume,
Nor wither, nor drop from the spray;
It just warm'd the buds, and increas'd their perfume,
Like the incense that's offered to May.
Hope ran from her covert, to Hymen she flew,
He smil'd, and to comfort her said;
“Your grove's in no danger, 'tis sacred to you
And a meek blue-eyed beautiful maid.
Nor wither, nor drop from the spray;
It just warm'd the buds, and increas'd their perfume,
Like the incense that's offered to May.
Hope ran from her covert, to Hymen she flew,
He smil'd, and to comfort her said;
“Your grove's in no danger, 'tis sacred to you
And a meek blue-eyed beautiful maid.
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My torch for the purpose I've dipp'd in a flame
So lambent, it seems but to burn;
'Twas lit for a pair whose one wish is the same,
Which from heart back to heart will return.
While this sweet wish to please circles thro' every day,
Thy myrtle-bower's verdure shall last;
And the heart looking back shall perceive no decay,
Though the blossoms of Spring are all past.”
So lambent, it seems but to burn;
'Twas lit for a pair whose one wish is the same,
Which from heart back to heart will return.
While this sweet wish to please circles thro' every day,
Thy myrtle-bower's verdure shall last;
And the heart looking back shall perceive no decay,
Though the blossoms of Spring are all past.”
| The poetical works of Susanna Blamire "The Muse of Cumberland." | |