THE EPITAPH.

‘ At Church, in twelve hours more, we meet!

This, Dearest, is our last farewell.’

‘ Oh, Felix, do you love me?’‘ Sweet,

Why do you ask?’‘ I cannot tell.’

And was it no vain fantasy

That raised me from the earth with pride?

Should I to-morrow verily

Be Bridegroom, and Honoria Bride?

Should I, in simple fact, henceforth

Live unconditionally lord

Of her whose smile for brightest worth

Seem'd all too bountiful reward?

Incredible life's promise seem'd,

Or, credible, for life too great;

Love his own deity blasphemed,

And doff'd at last his heavenly state.

What law, if man could mount so high,

To further insolence set bars,

And kept the chaste moon in the sky,

And bade him not tread out the stars!

Patience and hope had parted truce,

And, sun-like, Love obscured his ray

With dazzling mists, driven up profuse

Before his own triumphant way.

I thought with prayer how Jacob paid

The patient price of Rachel; them,

Of that calm grace Tobias said,

And Sarah's innocent‘ Amen.’

Without avail! O'erwhelming wealth,

The wondrous gift of God so near,

Which should have been delight and health

Made heart and spirit sick and sere.

Until at last the soul of love,

That recks not of its own delight,

Awoke and bade the mists remove,

And then once more I breathed aright;

And I rehears'd my marriage vow,

And swore her welfare to prefer

To all things, and for aye as now

To live, not for myself, but her.

Forth, from the glittering spirit's peace

And gaiety ineffable,

Stream'd to the heart delight and ease,

As from an overflowing well;

And, orderly deriving thence

Its pleasure perfect and allow'd,

Bright with the spirit shone the sense,

As with the sun a fleecy cloud.

If now to part with her could make

Her pleasure greater, sorrow less,

I for my epitaph would take

‘ To serve seem'd more than to possess.’

And I perceiv'd, ( the vision sweet

Dimming with happy dew mine eyes ),

That love and joy are torches lit

From altar-fires of sacrifice.

Across the sky the daylight crept,

And birds grew garrulous in the grove,

And on my marriage-morn I slept

A soft sleep, undisturb'd by love.