The hillocks in our morning path
Stretch out a dusky length of shades
Along the level inter-glades,
And o’er the dewy-scented math.
But slowly, as the sun unwraps
His golden clew, the shadows trace
A shortening spiral to their base,
And vanish up the noonward scarps.
So stretch away the shadowy nunes,
So run and shorten as we climb,
Till o’er the barren crest of time
They mingle with the eternal zones.
Look up the steeps of fifty years,
How far and high their misty crown!
But from their summits, looking down,
How all the distance disappears!
Gray travelers from youth’s flowery clime,
Gone up with faithful hand in hand,
This joyful hour we see you stand
As in the morning’s golden prime.
In that far day ye were but twain,
Now are we many! Great or small,
Your marriage-ring surrounds us all,
One heart-beat stirs the integral chain!
And we who greet your fading eyes,
Children, and children’s children, bring
The love that makes a precious thing
Of the least gift she sanctifies.
The gray old Years, a phantom throng
Upfloating from their misty beds,
Wave benedictions on your heads,
Still blessing whom they spared so long!
And fainter shapes of souls foregone
Come, hovering in the crystal air,
To mingle with the loves we bear,
Their deathless love, in light withdrawn.
And paler in the purple deeps, –
How far, how near, we cannot guess, –
A soul of purer loveliness
The signet of your bridal keeps:–
Fair angel of Immortal Love,
She joins in light the broken links
We drop in shadow; and, as it sinks,
Rebuilds our scattered Home, above.
Long may her beautiful feet delay
Their coming, ere the Master bids;
Welcome as sleep to weary lids
Their silent steps when come they may!
For a Golden Wedding