ON HER WEDDING DAY .

The hour is come, my sister,
When thou givest thy plighted hand,
And the nuptial throng are gathered,
A youthful, brilliant band:
Each heart is filled with gladness,
As the bridal wreath they twine,
And 'twere wrong that a shade of sadness,
Should cloud that brow of thine.

True thou leavest, now, my sister,
Youth's bright and careless ring,
And graver thoughts await thee,
And cares in thy pathway spring;
Yet let not a tear-drop falling,
O'ercast thy smiles to-day,
'Tis the voice of love that's calling,
From the old dear scenes away.

The heart thou hast loved, my sister,
The heart thou hast loved is warm;
Doubt not thou wilt find it faithful,
True alike amid calm and storm:
In the calm it will tenderly cherish,
In the storm it will firmly defend,
And though other trusts may perish,
This — this shall not fail, till life end.

I have loved thee well, my sister,
I have watched thee many a year;
Can I see thee from me passing
And stay the uprising tear?
Yes — go — long nurtured flower,
Yes — go — and I'll not repine;
Though plucked from my own dear bower,
I yield thee — thy joy is mine.

Heaven send thee its blessing, dear sister,
The light of God's love be o'erthrown,
The angels be ever around thee,
Thy heart be as blest as my own:
Then when death which earth's ties must dissever,
Shall bear thee o'er the dark tide,
Go wander and love forever,
The calm waters of heaven beside.