[The bride's departure, in] The religious souvenir a Christmas, New Year's, and Birth Day Present, for MDCCCXXXVI |
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 | [The bride's departure, in] The religious souvenir |  |
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THE BRIDE'S DEPARTURE.
The bride bent o'er her sire,
And filial fondness strove with woman's love,
As o'er the Eolian lyre
Contending breezes tremulously move.
That high and placid brow
So long revered, shaded with hoary hair—
Those lips that even now,
In loving dreams, do bless her unaware;—
And filial fondness strove with woman's love,
As o'er the Eolian lyre
Contending breezes tremulously move.
That high and placid brow
So long revered, shaded with hoary hair—
Those lips that even now,
In loving dreams, do bless her unaware;—
That hand that e'er has prest,
At morn and eve, benignantly, her head,
Swayed her, in infancy, to rest,
And her young feet to the green pastures led,—
All speak, though he lies sleeping,
And wake a mystic movement in her soul,
Till, in silence, weeping—
She inly breathes the thoughts that spurn control.
At morn and eve, benignantly, her head,
Swayed her, in infancy, to rest,
And her young feet to the green pastures led,—
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And wake a mystic movement in her soul,
Till, in silence, weeping—
She inly breathes the thoughts that spurn control.
“My father! had ye felt
The long lone strife that I have known within,
Knew ye how oft I've knelt,
Asking, in prayer, if such love were a sin;
Could'st thou, in commune near,
But feel the pangs that wound thy exiled dove,
Or her heart-throbbings hear,—
Ye might conceive a daughter's quenchless love.
The long lone strife that I have known within,
Knew ye how oft I've knelt,
Asking, in prayer, if such love were a sin;
Could'st thou, in commune near,
But feel the pangs that wound thy exiled dove,
Or her heart-throbbings hear,—
Ye might conceive a daughter's quenchless love.
“As o'er the mirror wave,
In rapt delight, doth bend the timid deer,
Nor durst her soft lips lave,
Ere listing long for note of danger near;
So ere thy Clara's breast
Shrined any love, save what lives there for thee,
For aught that could protest
Against the spirit-call, she listened fervently.
In rapt delight, doth bend the timid deer,
Nor durst her soft lips lave,
Ere listing long for note of danger near;
So ere thy Clara's breast
Shrined any love, save what lives there for thee,
For aught that could protest
Against the spirit-call, she listened fervently.
“Naught broke the solemn spell;
Sweet the light zephyr and the streamlet's glide,
And woodland carol fell
Responsive on my ear, and hailed me bride;
Ay, by their music mild,
By friendship's tone and every gentle sound,
My soul was more beguiled,
For Nature hallowed love, love beamed from all around.
Sweet the light zephyr and the streamlet's glide,
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Responsive on my ear, and hailed me bride;
Ay, by their music mild,
By friendship's tone and every gentle sound,
My soul was more beguiled,
For Nature hallowed love, love beamed from all around.
“He stirs! how dark the morrow
To which he will awake! Shall I—his child,
Consign him to such sorrow?
No; father, I will stay; heart, cease thy beatings wild!
But ah! what thrills me so?
'T is my love's grasp; I am a part of thee
And cannot choose, but go—
This bleeding heart is thine by pure affinity.
To which he will awake! Shall I—his child,
Consign him to such sorrow?
No; father, I will stay; heart, cease thy beatings wild!
But ah! what thrills me so?
'T is my love's grasp; I am a part of thee
And cannot choose, but go—
This bleeding heart is thine by pure affinity.
“Father above! watch o'er
Him who, through happy years, has been to me,
And wilt be evermore,
The emblem blest of thy paternity!
See—now the sunbeams play
Upon his couch; I hear the matin bell!
Yes, love,—we must away,—
One gentle kiss;—dear father, fare thee well!”
Him who, through happy years, has been to me,
And wilt be evermore,
The emblem blest of thy paternity!
See—now the sunbeams play
Upon his couch; I hear the matin bell!
Yes, love,—we must away,—
One gentle kiss;—dear father, fare thee well!”
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