She pass'd up the aisle on the arm of her sire, A delicate lady in bridal attire, Fair emblem of virgin simplicity; Half London was there, and, my word, there were few That stood by the altar, or hid in a pew, But envied Lord Nigel's felicity. O beautiful Bride! So meek in thy splendour, So frank in thy love, and its trusting surrender, Departing you leave us the town dim! May happiness wing to thy bosom, unsought, And may Nigel, esteeming his bliss as he ought, Prove worthy thy worship,—confound him! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PHILOMELA: PHILOMELA'S ODE [THAT SHE SANG IN HER ARBOR] by ROBERT GREENE SNAKE by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE SONNET: 14. ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF CATHERINE THOMASON by JOHN MILTON SONNET: 61 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WINTERTIME by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA by ALFRED TENNYSON ODE TO DUTY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH QUATRAIN: OMAR KHAYYAM (AFTER FITZGERALD) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |