University of Virginia Library


68

THE COLD WEDDING.

But few days gone
Her hand was won
By suitor finely skill'd to woo;
And now come we
In pomp to see
The Church's ceremonials due.
The Bride in white
Is clad aright,
Within her carriage closely hid;
No blush to veil—
For too, too pale
The cheek beneath each downcast lid.
White favours rest
On every breast;
And yet methinks we seem not gay.
The church is cold,
The priest is old,—
But who will give the bride away?
Now delver, stand,
With spade in hand,
All mutely to discharge thy trust:
Priest's words sound forth;
They're—“Earth to earth,
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

69

The groom is Death;
He has no breath;
(The wedding peals, how slow they swing!)
With icy grip
He soon will clip
Her finger with a wormy ring.
A match most fair,
This silent pair,
Now to each other given for ever,
Were lovers long,
Were plighted strong
In oaths and bonds that could not sever.
Ere she was born
That vow was sworn;
And we must lose into the ground
Her face we knew:
As thither you
And I, and all, are swiftly bound.
This Law of Laws
That still withdraws
Each mortal from all mortal ken—
If 'twere not here;
Or we saw clear
Instead of dim as now; what then?
This were not Earth, and we not Men.