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THE TEARFUL BRIDE.
They leave that scene of merriment,
And wander slow away, In the path the mourner treads
At the closing hour of day: The laugh of gushing gladness
Is hush'd in silence now, And a shade of deepest sadness
Has fallen on each brow.
How strange to see that happy throng,
With thoughtful footsteps leave, That festive board, where all is joy
On this sweet bridal eve; To wander in this lonely place,
The saddest spot on earth, Amid its deep solemnities
Forgetting all their mirth'