Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/167

Above the floating bridal veil
    The white Camella rears
Its innocent and tranquil eye,
    To calm young beauty's fears;
And even when hoary Age recalls
    The memories of that hour,
Blent with the heaven-recorded vow
    Will gleam that stainless flower.

The matron fills her crystal vase
    With gems that summer lends,
Or groups them round the festal board
    To greet her welcome friends.
Her husband's eye is on the skill
    With which she decks his bower,
And dearer is his praise to her
    Than earth's most precious flower

Frail gifts we call them, prone to fade,
    Ere the brief spring is o'er,
Though down the smitten strong man falls
    Returning never more:
Time wears away the arch of rock,
    And rends the ancient throne,
Yet back they come, unchanged as when
    On Eden's breast they shone.

How passing beautiful they are
    On youth's unclouded plain,