The moisture from the ground; Died the last angry sound. There fell from the lark a note, Till the sounds rang near and far; In her sleep Annie heard the call, And dreamed of her lover's voice. Accents softly let fall, From the lips of her heart's first choice. The sound flowed sweetly through all, In sleep it bade her rejoice. Soon on her lids the sun, Shining down in his glory pressed, Bidding her know day begun, Breaking her last maiden rest; Kissing her cheeks, and in fun, Thus warmly roused from repose Before to her bridal she goes, Her cheeks just glance with the rose, Pure are the orange blooms twined In her hair, and white as her hand Is the dress she wears, and behind The bridesmaids gather and stand; Each one a sweet maid refined, The flowers of the blooming land. The priest chants the solemn prayers The mother's arms now enfold The last she will shed to-day; While her finger gleams with the gold That binds her to him alway. And Alfred clasps his bride That creature of delicate bloom; But I lead to the mother's knee A figure fair as can be, But subdued in the draperies' light; Yet all that there is to see, Is delicate, graceful, and bright. The father raises the veil, Eva is clasped to his heart; And they pardon deceit on our part. Such happy meetings repay And the pleasure we all have felt, Then to the festive board we move, And mirth and wine assist fair love. XXXVI. Let me leave the lay Spent among sweet flowers. Here I close my song. Till again my harp shall ring, CONCLUSION. Dear girls, when in the spring we met, And now at length the task is done; If Eva's smile is brighter made Or Annie's lips express delight, At any verses that meet her eyes; Which mock the beams of May's sunrise, Or meteor on November's night. These then are yours. Do not refuse, |