Page:Poems Welby.djvu/167

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
159
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,