Classic Poem

Beloved bride, whom my dear mother blessed
With saintly hands, ere from this world she passed
Into that other; dying with happy eyes
That thou wast left to me: beloved wife,
Of God the gift, to thee I dedicate
This poem of my earlier wandering years,
When yet I knew thee not; to thee, who since,
Companion sweet, hast sailed with me those seas,
Hast trodden those shores, where Penrhyn roamed alone:
Take thou these verses, and if in them lives
Aught of the beauty which they strive to paint,
Of nature and of art in Orient climes,
Keep then, in memory of our happy hours
In that far East — the lotus-land of earth.