THE SAD BRIDAL.
What would you do, my dear one said,—
What would you do, if I were dead?
If Death should mumble, as he list,
These red lips which now you kist?
What would my love do, were I wed
To that ghastly groom instead;
If o’er me, in the chancel, Death
Should cast his amaranthine wreath,—
Before my eyes, with fingers pale,