The Widow

Rose! O smile upon the youth no longer; He, in his impatience to be wedded, Chose a widow for his years unsuited, And where’er she goes, where’er she tarries, She is mourning for her ancient husband.

“O my husband! first and best possession! Happy were the days we spent together! Early we retired and late we waken’d. Thou didst wake me kissing my white forehead, ‘Up, my heart! the sun is high in heaven, And our aged mother is arisen.’”