If one shrewd tongue should jar and seek to | While memories of The bride's new honors with her humble Lone songs and autumn sighs and April Thou in her place wouldst merit thine own In shadows of soft melancholy flow Long be their days, their fortunes glad and That memory, like the deep light in the Spring, summer, with their changes o'er it Another morn shall rise, but not to set, ye shall meet once more as once ye met, flit, And And morn and eve, twin-sisters, look from it ; Your beauty wrought to glory by the Giver, | 'Mid herbless rocks, more pure than mounThe joy within ye perfected for ever. Oh what rare thoughts are his! oh what delight To gaze upon her, hold her in his sight, The last sweets, lest a drop be there in vain! A lightning-flash of what the soul shall be. tain-streams, Chaster than light, warmer than imaged beams, More full of promise than the vernal heaven, More peaceful than a starry summer's eveu, More sweet than moss-rose odors after rain With violets mixed, or a two-voiced strain? What is more welcome than the dawn of day To lone men lost in darkness and dismay, But she dear heart!-her thoughts are fled To aged eyes than is the hue of wine, To weary wanderers than the sound and |