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146. SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE.
THE DRUNKARD'S BRIDE.
What was it 'woke a thought of her— The gentle and the beautiful ?
I know not, yet fond mem'ries stir, As when the sudden zephyr's swell
Takes up the leaves that long have lain,
And makes them seem alive again.
I see her as I saw her when
Hope had her bridal chaplet wove;
A stranger far from youthful friends, Buoy'd up by ever constant love;
When from her eye a something beamed,
That told how fondly she had dreamed.
Upon her forehead, pure and fair, Lingered a trace of tender thought;
The soul of love was mirrored there— What eye could gaze and see it not!
0! she was beautiful, and bright
As spring-time's earliest, purest light.
I see her as I saw her when
A change had pass'd upon that brow: The joyous spring was here again,
And the same flowers began to blow— A fleeting twelvemonth passed away, And in her snowy shroud she lay. |
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