Days and Hours :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Marriage-bells are ringing,
The merry winds go by,
The Summer birds are singing
In the sky!
The bridal bells, ah! merrily, hark! they ring,
Rising and falling like a lover's heart,
Over the hills their silver sounds they fling,
And valleys far apart!

And He too wakes! the glory of the Prime
Shines on his brow, and in his heart sublime;
Thro' charmed light he sees the illumined Spring,
With his own joy he hears the skylark sing;
And the young airs that ripple the treetops
Have got their wings from his enchanted hopes;
The dazzling dews that on the roses lie,
The sunlit streams are kindled at his eye!

With heedless heart he looks across the land,
And far as he can see on either hand

Greenwood and garden, and the wealth that fills
The teeming vales, and robes the Summer hills
Are his; but from his tower he only sees
One mossy roof half hid among the trees;
There is the priceless treasure that outweighs
All hopes and memories, all delights and praise.

And if his heart is plumed with sudden pride—
‘Mine is the noble race that lived or died
For Honor; mine the name unstain'd of Ill,
Blown from the lips of Fame, with echoes still;
Mine are the sires whom bards have sung—who held
First place in Council, first in Battlefield;
Yet All is Nought’—he sigh'd—‘till thou art mine;
Kings might give crowns for that one heart of thine!’