BRAID THE RAVEN HAIR.

Braid the raven hair,

Weave the supple tress,

Deck the maiden fair

In her loveliness;

Paint the pretty face,

Dye the coral lip.

Emphasize the grace

Of her ladyship!

Art and nature, thus allied,

Go to make a pretty bride!

Sit with downcast eye,

Let it brim with dew;

Try if you can cry,

We will do so, too.

When you're summoned, start

Like a frightened roe;

Flutter, little heart,

Color, come and go!

Modesty at marriage tide

Well becomes a pretty bride!

Is life a boon?

If so? it must befal

That Death, whene'er he call,

Must call too soon.

Though fourscore years he give,

Yet one would pray to live

Another moon!

What kind of plaint have I,

Who perish in July?

I might have had to die,

Perchance, in June!

Is life a thorn?

Then count it not a whit!

Man is well done with it;

Soon as he's born

He should all means essay

To put the plague away:

And I, war-worn,

Poor captured fugitive,

My life most gladly give —

I might have had to live

Another morn!