THE HAPPY BRIDE.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1013, 31 December 1910, Page 9

THE HAPPY BRIDE.

Along the lanc-whoro I passed tlio faded shows rust};— Naked tlio wind-wilted thorns crouch closo by the granite boulders; On tlio day that I buried you, lass, the Juno sun was lusty, Made the' new-varnished coffin gleam upon the black shoulders. Lie you warmly, my lass, with your head ■ on your lonely' pillow, .' Toil.-that I was to'wed when tlio pilchard huer's first "Heva!" Told, that the harvest of fishers made dark the long rippled billow, You.who'll wed never? Dead . before you. were mine! As they jolted you.up tlio steep street, . Meaning wedded to Heaven, they hymned you as "O Happy Bride!" Bridal shift was not sewn, nor the bridal : wreath twisted, iny sweet, Until you had died. Lass, I cannot forget you,' the one. soft curl in tlio hollow Dimpling tlio.nape of your neck; the way that tlio curve of pink ear Was half-hid by your hair when yc.u turned to see if I'd follow; Then.the smile that narrowed your lids when you found I was near. But there's Ivan to tlio mill who would ' have me, come fair days, como wet— Must I get me 110 sons for the sake of my pledges to you? When my hands are too feeble for drawing and tucking the net, Then what, shall I do? When tile tiller will wrench at my grip 'and send the, boom swinging, And tlio whito eyo of dawn will look vainly to. find mo afloat, Then I'll want of my own flosh-and-blood to set the sails winging Upon "my own boat. "Lad, you need have no fear that my dead hand will pluck at tlio sheet; \ Sleep - without recking of me and get your children, about you. Thicker than gulls at a haul, come flocking tlio troubles you'll meet, Sons grown to manhood will quarrel, and daughters when fair will flout you." What better folk hnvo you here, my lass, grass betwixt you and the clay; With the church tower pricking one car across to the morn? "Children I would have brought to you; babes of the spirit aro they Who never were born." May I take Nan and wed with her, novcr think her your debtor Nor see her cheek whiten from tlio envious breath of the dead? "Havo her and bo glad, for the Happy Bride sleeps with a better, Nan you may wed. 'Tis the mail that I thought you lies closer to mo than a wraith, Dreaming with him and his babes I'll covet 110 live woman's morrow. Take my wish, that-till women forget or till men can keep , faith Voir may miss sorrow." —P. Tennyson Jesse, in tlio "London Times."