Poems (Welby)/The Bride

by Amelia Welby

THE BRIDE.

A fringe of dewy leaves,
 Along the branches droop,
That overhang the cottage-eaves,
 Where stand a bridal group;
In fair and laughing bands
 The maidens, far and wide,
Have brought fresh roses in their hands,
 To crown the fair young bride.

Before the man of prayer,
 They slowly gather round,
As silent as the floating air,
 That floats without a sound,
As, with a downcast brow,
 Close to her lover's side,
Comes forth in raiment white as snow
 The young and timid bride.

How beautiful she seems,
 As o'er her soft brown hair
The sunset flings its golden gleams,
 And forms a halo there,
While o'er her features play
 The thoughts she cannot hide,
Whose soft expression seems to say,
 I am thy happy bride.

No cold vain look is there,
 But all is soft and meek;
Upon her virgin forehead fair,
 And o'er her dimpled cheek,
A something soft and warm,
 That round her seems to glide,
Envolves as with a heavenly charm
 The young and spotless bride.

There's a whispered vow of love,
 As side by side they stand,
And the drawing of a snow-white glove
 From a little trembling hand,
And the glitter of a ring,
 And a tear that none may chide—
These, these have changed that girlish thing,
 And she is now a bride.

No shadow dims her brow—
 She feels without a fear
The trusting love, that all may know,
 Who wed in their own sphere;
And he, who clasps her now,
 All flushed with love and pride,
Has breathed to her his holiest vow,
 And takes her for his bride.

Sweet bride! he'll ne'er forget,
 When 'neath thy father's cot
He met thee like a violet,
 Within a shady spot.
Through all the balmy air,
 And the breathing world beside,
There 's nought to him so soft and fair
 As thou, his blessed bride.

Sweet tie! that links as one
 Two spirits fond and true—
What, what is all that time has done,
 Or all, that time can do!
Recorded vows of love,
 In heaven fore'er abide,
And none shall part, save One above,
 The bridegroom and the bride.