Classic Poem

BY MRS. ADA BOLTON SMITH .

Twas Christmas Eve. Within a Gothic church, —
Whose walls were wreathed with fragrant evergreen,
And holy words in living verdure shrined,
With many friends we waited for the pair
Upon whose love that hour would set its seal.
Then pealed the organ forth a joyous strain;
And with the music's thrill we saw them come.
From out the setting of her snowy veil
The pearl-pure face of the young bride looked forth,
Fairer and sweeter than the orange buds
That bound the silken waves of her dark hair.
Hid was the soft eyes lustre neath the lids
Whose downcast lashes swept her virgin cheek;
But round her tender mouth there dwelt a look
Of rest unutterable and perfect trust.
And he in whom she trusted walked by her
In all the pride of manhood. On his brow
Shone the clear light of tenderness untold,
And deathless love for her, his own, his bride!
The wondrous words were said — she bore his name —
When, turning from the altar, slow they passed
Beyond my sight into their bright new world.
I did not follow with the smiling train.
Of those who gave them joy; for silent tears
Were in my eyes, and on my lips a prayer
To Him, who came to men upon this night,
For these, my friends, that He would bless their home
With health, success, and perfect happiness;
And crown their lives with every heavenly gift.