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The Wedding Morn



The World has hid her sprightly face
behind a pearly gossamer veil, 
that while she waits her coming groom 
no man may see her maiden eyes.

Though she was long a charge of night,
he is not loth to let her go,
for he but fostered her a while,
‘till one arise to take his place.

The East proclaims her lover comes
in splendour: robed in violet hues,
to raise her from her humble state
and rend in her a wondrous change.

And as his face looks o’er the hills
it beams to see her waiting there.
He casts aside the vexing veil
and wraps her in his loving arms.
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