University of Virginia Library

TO ------

In many a strain of grief and joy,
My youthful spirit sung to thee;
But I am now no more a boy,
And there's a gulf 'twixt thee and me.
Time on my brow has set his seal—
I start to find myself a man,
And know that I no more shall feel
As only boyhood's spirit can.
And now I bid a long adieu
To thoughts that held my heart in thrall,
To cherish'd dreams of brightest hue,
And thee—the brightest dream of all.
My footsteps rove not where they roved,
My home is changed, and, one by one,
The “old, familiar” forms I loved
Are faded from my path—and gone.
I launch into life's stormy main,
And 'tis with tears—but not of sorrow,
That, pouring thus my parting strain,
I bid thee, as a Bride, good-morrow.
Full well thou know'st I envy not
The heart it is thy choice to share:
My soul dwells on thee, as a thought
With which no earthly wishes are.
I love thee as I love the star,
The gentle star that smiles at Even,
That melts into my heart from far,
And leads my wandering thoughts to Heaven.
'Twould break my soul's divinest dream
With meaner love to mingle thee;
'Twould dim the most unearthly beam
Thy form sheds o'er my memory.
It is my joy, it is my pride
To picture thee in bliss divine;
A happy and an honour'd bride,
Blest by a fonder love than mine.
Be thou to one a holy spell,
A bliss by day—a dream by night,—
A thought on which his soul shall dwell,—
A cheering and a guiding light.
His be thy heart,—but while no other
Disturbs his image at its core,
Still think of me as of a brother,
I'd not be loved, nor love thee, more.
For thee each feeling of my breast
So holy—so serene shall be,
That when thy heart to his is prest,
'Twill be no crime to think of me.
I shall not wander forth at night,
To breathe thy name—as lovers would;
Thy form, in visions of delight,
Not oft shall break my solitude.
But when my bosom-friends are near,
And happy faces round me press,
The goblet to my lips I'll rear,
And drain it to thy happiness.
And when, at morn or midnight hour,
I commune with my God, alone,
Before the throne of Peace and Power
I'll blend thy welfare with my own.
And if, with pure and fervent sighs,
I bend before some loved one's shrine,
When gazing on her gentle eyes,
I shall not blush to think of thine.
Thou, when thou meet'st thy love's caress,
And when thy children climb thy knee,
In thy calm hour of happiness,
Then sometimes—sometimes think of me.
In pain or health—in grief or mirth,
Oh, may it to my prayer be given
That we may sometimes meet on earth,
And meet, to part no more, in Heaven.