MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE BRIDAL DAY. On a monument in a Venetian church is an epitaph, recording that the remains beneath are those of a noble lady, who expired suddenly while standing as a bride at the altar. "We bear her home! we bear her home! Over the murmuring salt sea's foam: BRIDE! upon thy marriage-day, BARRY CORNWALL. When the clustering pearls lay fair 'Midst thy braids of sunny hair, And the white veil o'er thee streaming, VOL. VI. 9 (97) -Who shall tell us? from thy bower, Swiftly o'er the Adrian tide Wert thou borne in pomp, young bride! Bright one! oh! there well may be Bride! when through the stately fane, THE BRIDAL DAY. When, like harp-strings with a sigh On thy lip the murmurs low Or did some deep feeling's might, Never to thy lip and cheek Rush'd again the crimson streak, Never to thine eye return'd That which there had beam'd and burn'd! With the secret none might know, With thy rapture or thy woe, With thy marriage-robe and wreath, There were sounds of weeping o'er thee, Deaf to that wild funeral wail, 99 |