VIII.

What a heaven the cottage seemed! Love's own temple, where Faith dreamed Of the coming years that beamed On them, as pale stars have gleamed

Through unnavigated seas, To which the prophetic breeze

Whispered of a future day, When swift fleets would urge their way, Through the waters cold and gray, Like the dolphins at their play.

There the future Bride, and he, Prince of love's knight-errantry,

Whose good shepherd arms must hold This pet yeanling of the fold, Gift of God so long foretold, Gift beyond the price of gold.

There the parents, aged and hale, Passing down life's autumn vale,

With a joy as rare and true As their daughter's eye of blue, With such hopes as reach up to Heaven's gate, when, passing through,

Peris, bound for higher skies, Win the Celestial Paradise.