The Ladies' Garland

From La Belle Assemblée.

ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG BRIDE

BY MISS M. G. LEWIS.

I did not wish that thou shouldst meet
This sad and early doom,
And be so soon of joy bereft
To wither in the tomb:

I did not hope to see thee torn
From every tender tie,
And leave thy widow'd mate to mourn
Love's last expiring sigh.

Though thou had'st shrouded all my path,
Through many a future year,
No rival's hate—no jealous wrath
Was nursed against thee here;

Though thou had'st blasted all of joy
That life could offer me,
I never panted to destroy
The share it held for thee:

Thou might'st have dwelt in gentle rest
Had heaven averted this:
I could have borne to know thee blest,
But not to view thy bliss.

And, though thou hast glided now away
From friendship and from hate,
It does not throw one brighter ray
Upon my changeless fate:

The darkness spread enwraps me still,
And—till life's closing hour
My heart may wake to sorrow's thrill,
But ne'er to pleasure's power.

A short but happy lot was thine:
Loved—blest—then early riven
From where earth's budding joys entwine,
To riper joys in heaven.