Old age came by, with tott'ring step, and, for the sordid gold
With which the dotard urged his suit, the maiden's peace was sold
And thus (for oh! her sire's stern heart was steel'd against her pray'r)
The hand he ne'er had gain'd from love, he won from her despair.
I saw them through the churchyard pass, but such a nuptial train
I would not for the wealth of worlds should greet my sight again.
The bridemaids, each as beautiful as Eve in Eden's bow'rs,
Shed bitter tears upon the path they should have strewn with flow'rs.
Who had not deem'd that white rob'd band the funeral array,
Of one an early doom had call'd from life's gay scene away!