14 
THE BOUQUET. 
They dwell, in truth, in such a sphere— 
Youth’s fairy land ! — Ah, never fear 
Or care or sorrow’s hand 
Can touch the dwellers of that clime ; 
Secure in pleasure’s spells they stand, 
Defying all save T ine ! 
The gay ones pause beside the church ; 
Each hows a reverent head 
And passes neath the lofty arch 
With slow and solemn tread. 
With folded wing and noiseless pace 
The Fay, too, seeks that worship-place, 
Enters, and marks with mute surprise 
The holy scene that meets her eyes. 
Before the sacred altar stand 
A noble youth and gentle maid ; — 
Eye meeting eye, and hand in hand, 
And truth on either brow displayed, 
They seem, by Heaven, design’d to move 
Together o’er life’s rugged way, 
That clouded path which wedded love 
Can render radiant as the day. 
Fair was the bride ; — youth’s holy charm 
Lent all its witchery to her form; 
And beauty’s deepest spell was seen 
In down-cast eye and modest mein. 
A graceful robe of stainless white 
Fell round her, as the moon’s soft light 
balls o’er the Earth in cloudless night. 
A floating veil of silvery hue 
Whose folds, her brow look’d lovelier through 
llung, like the mist on mountain side, 
