Classic Poem

A group before the altar. Breathe thy vow,
Loving and stainless one, without a fear;
For he who wins thee to his bosom now,
Gem of the wild, unparalleled and dear,
Will guard thee ever, as his treasure rare,
With changeless tenderness and constant care;
How speaks his noble brow a soul sincere,
While the old white-hair'd king, with eye of pride,
Gives to his ardent hand the timid, trusting bride.