Full thirty years of wedded bliss, My darling wife, we have enjoyed; And still I can with rapture kiss Thy sweet, chaste lips--for I am void Of every fear that thou wilt fail To love me till our race is run.
Our mutual love is still as hale As though we had but just begun To link our fate In marriage state, Where joys for sorrows compensate.
So, filled with sense of G.o.d"s rich love, Let us those decades three review; For though we have with trials strove To keep our happiness still new, We"ve had Religion"s holy aid Still shedding sunshine on our way, As we pursued our humble trade And struggled on from day to day.
Our hearts imbued With grat.i.tude Call loud for vows to G.o.d renewed.
Now looking back through all these years, "Midst chequered scenes of daily life, A family of eight appears For thee to love and serve, my wife!
Thou wert indeed a youthful bride, But weak in body--not in heart-- As thou my cherished hearth beside Sat down, content to do thy part.
And well I know No lot below Was e"er more free from earthly woe.
In this review I can"t forget How oft in sickness, grief and pain, Thy loving heart our needs has met, While solace rich came in thy train.
Nor when thyself on sick bed lay, Racked with _Neuralgia"s_ maddening pangs.
How Patience kept the wolf at bay, And made him soon withdraw his fangs.
My darling sweet, "Tis surely meet I thee with song like this should greet!
Nor yet when by that dreadful fall Thy limbs were bruised, thy system shook, How easily I can recall Each winning smile, each tender look,
As I attempted to alleve Thy sufferings great for many days.
And while I could not help but grieve, I saw thy meekness with amaze; For no dread pain Could triumph gain O"er thee, nor did"st thou once complain.
Then, O my darling, join with me To celebrate our Father"s praise!
For he has kept us lovingly From hankering after worldly ways.
Raise then our Ebenezer high!
Join, children, in my joyful song!
Lay ever disagreement by, That you in, union may be strong.
Thus let us wait At Wisdom"s gate, Till Christ in turn shall each translate.
FAREWELL TO MY HARP
Farewell my rude Harp and my still ruder Lyre!
For season your tones may not fall on my ear; At the _bench_ will hard labor repress rhyming fire, And Fact over Fancy triumphant appear.
Yet I will remember the exquisite pleasure For full thirty years freely rendered by you; How oft in that time you have proved a rich treasure-- Still constant abiding and evermore true.
Again and again bring afresh to my mind.
How in youth your wild minstrelsy ravished my soul Till I became daily to musings inclined, And strong, gushing impulse that scarce brooked control.
I oft will recall how you chased away sadness, As sore family tumbles my heart did affright When a fond, faithful partner, whose presence was gladness Was reft from my side--turning day into night!
Nor forget soon the dirges you poured o"er the tomb Enclosing both her and our infant so dear; Whose soul-stirring notes dissipated my gloom, And since have refreshed me through many a year.
Ah, no! those sweet _memories_, fresh in me springing, Shall nerve to new efforts in G.o.d"s holy cause; And hearing within me your melodies ringing, I"ll steadfastly aim at observing His Laws.
THE END.