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THE TEARFUL BRIDE. 185
And at my heart a farewell throb, Which language may not speak!
Adieu, my friend! a long adieu I sigh amidst the gloom,
Which gathers fast around us here Beside thy mother's tomb.
Go, mourner now! go, tearful bride!
Go, leave this hallow'd spot! And may the lesson learn'd to-night
Be never more forgot! Ah; go! I would not see thee sad—
Why longer tarry here ? Thy bridal evening should be glad,
Unmark'd by one sad tear.
But pause, and hang thy chaplet first
Upon thy mother's tomb, Thy bridal crown of sweetest flowers.
Thy wreath of blushing bloom, To wither here, though now its leaves
Are beautiful and bright; Sad emblems of thy youthful hopes,
That bloom so fresh to-night!
Pass on, ye bridal train, pass on!
In quick procession move, And while through scenes of future life
Your doubtful footsteps rove, |
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