My Bride That Is To Be

O, soul of mine, look out ana Ree My bride, my bride that is to be ! Keach out with mad, impatient liauds And draw aside futurity As one mlght draw a veil aslde, Aud so unvell her where Rhe stands Madonna-ltke and glorifled- The queen of undiscovered lands O love, to where she becions me- My bride, my bride that is to be. TheshadowofawiUow tree That wavers on a garaen wal). In summer limomay never rail In attitude as gracefully As my íair bride that is to be: Nor even autumn's leaves of brown As lightly fluttered to the lawn As fall her firy feet upou The patns of love she loiters down. O'er drops of dew she walks. and yet Not one may stain her sandal wet; And se uiight dance upon the wny Nor crush a single drop of spray, So alry-like süe seems to me- Mv bride, my briiie that la to be. I kDOW not If her eyes are Hght As summer skles, ordark as niglit- I only kuow that they are dirn With mysteiy. ín vain I peer To make iheir hidden meaning clear, Whlle o'er Iheir surface.Hke a tear Tliat rlpplos to the süken brim, A look of longingseems to switn. All warm and weary-llke to rae ; And then, as suddenly, my sighl Isbllntfed by a Rinileso brlght, Through folded lids I stiü may see My bride, my bride thatis to be. Her face Ís lifco a night Ín June Upon whose brow the crescent moon Hans pendent ín a diadem Of stars that envy lightlng them ; And llke a wild cascade, her halr Floods neck and shoulders, arm aud wrUt, TUI only through the gleamlng mist [ seem to see a airen there, With Ups of love and melody, And open arms and heaving breast, Whereln I flltg my soul to rest, The while my heart cries hopelessiy ïor my falr bride that is to be. Nay, foolish hearland blinded eyes, My bride has need of no disguise- But rather let her come to me Id such a forru as bent above My pillow when in Infancy I knew not anything but love. OU, let her come from out the lands Of womanhood- not fairy isles- And let her come wltn womau's hand, And woman's eyes of tears and smlics; With woman's hopefulness andgrace 0Í pallence Ugthiug up her face; And let hor diadem be wrought. Of klndly deed and prayerful tliouglit, That even over all distress May beam the llgüt of cheerfulnes?, Ai'd let her feet be brave to fare The labvrinths of doubt and care, That following, my own roay iiud The path to heayen God designed- Oh, let her come like thts to me, My hrlde, my bride that ig to be.