To a daughter on her marriage.
Dear to my heart, as life’s warm stream
Which animates this mortal clay,
For thee I court the waking dream,
And deck with smiles the future day:
And thus beguile the present pain
With hopes that we shall meet again!
Yet will it be as when the past
Twined every joy, and care, and thought,
And o’er our minds one mantle cast
Of kind affections, finely wrought?
Ah no! the groundless hope were vain
For so, we ne’er can meet again!
May he who claims thy tender heart,
Deserve its love, as I have done;
For kind and gentle as thou art,
If so beloved thou’rt fairly won.
Bright may the sacred torch remain,
And cheer thee till we meet again.
James I.
It was said of King James I. that there were two sorts of men he never had kindness for; those whose hawks flew, and dogs ran as well as his own, and those who were able to speak as much reason as himself.