THE MINISTREL.

Saturday Advertiser, Issue 52, 8 July 1876, Page 3

THE MINISTREL.

“ All! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame’s proud temple shinesafar.” Beattie. NUPTIAL SONG. From “ While Hose and Fed ” ly the Author of St. Abe. Where were they wedded ? In no Temple of ice Built up by human fingers; The floor was strewn with flowers of fair device, The wood-birds were the singers. Who was the Priest ? The priest was the still Soul, Calm, gentle, and low-spoken ; He read a running brooklet like a scroll, And trembled at the token. What was the service ? ’Twas the service read When Adam’s faith was plighted ! The tongue was silent, but the lips, rose-red, In silence were united.

Who saw it done ? The million starry eyes Of one ecstatic Heaven. Who shared the joy? The flowers, the trees, the skies Thrilled as each kiss was given.

Who was the Bride ? A spirit strong and true, Beauteous to human seeing,— Soft elements of flesh, air, fire, and dew, Blent in one Hose of being.

What was her consecration ? Innocence! Pure as the wood doves round her, Nothing she knew of rites —the strength intense Of God and Nature found her.

As freely as maids give a lock away, She gave herself unto him. What was the Bridegroom ? Clay, and common clay, Yet the wild joy slipt through him.

Hymen, O Hymen ! By the birds was shed A matrimonial cadence! JDa nuces ! Squirrels strew’d the nuts, instead Of rosy youths and maidens !

Eureka, yea, Eureka was to blame— He was an erring creature: Uncivilised by one wild flash of flame He wavered back on Nature.

He kissed her lips, he drank her breath in bliss, He drew her to his bosom: As a clod kindles at the Spring’s first kiss His being hurst to blossom!

Who rung the hells ? The breeze, the merry breeze, Set all in bright vibration: Clear, sweet, yet low, there trembled through the trees The nuptial jubilation!