I saw thee on the day thou wast a bride, And shouted, 'mid my joy-tears, with the crowd: Thou wert a woman, and thou sattst beside Thy bosom's choice, while happiness o'erflowed Thy heart, and in thy fair young countenance glowed. Beholding thine, what could I less than feel A sympathetic joy? Ay, though a proud Worship of England's stern old Commonweal Was mine, -- for thee, that day, I breathed devotion leal. |