How sacred must thy memory be to me,
Who, like the Lord's Envoy Extraordinary,
Appearest here midway through walls and foes,
To wreathe my brow with grace, e'en ere I die.
Smith.
If I am so ordained by God, 't is thou
Who givest me my mission's consciousness.
As grateful for the care bestowed on her.
The Rose blooms fairest in her warden's sight,
Yet hardly less delights the passer-by
Through her sweet loveliness and charming scent.
So holds as well a good and pious heart
A source of blessings rich enough for all,
E'en though its foremost love is vowed to one.
So I, scarce entered in thy blessings' sphere.
Become a sharer of their gifts and dowers,
Whose recognition by my slightest service
Returns to me as two-fold benefit.
I owe to thee, that by this joyful rite
Of Matrimony I may end my mission;
I owe to thee, that by this glorious death
Of heroism I may conclude my life.
Col. Wm. Travis.
Would that my friends could all attend our wedding;
Alas! the hour's stern duty bars their presence.
Yet not unmeet it seems, that one at least
Were witness and partaker of our joy.
