Her Sweet turn to leave the Homestead

Her Sweet turn to leave the Homestead

Came the Darker Way—

Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too—

But for Holiday

‘Tis more pitiful Endeavor

Than did Loaded Sea

O’er the Curls attempt to caper

It had cast away—

Never Bride had such Assembling—

Never kinsmen kneeled

To salute so fair a Forehead—

Garland be indeed—

Fitter Feet—of Her before us—

Than whatever Brow

Art of Snow—or Trick of Lily

Possibly bestow

Of Her Father—Whoso ask Her—

He shall seek as high

As the Palm—that serve the Desert—

To obtain the Sky—

Distance—be Her only Motion—

If ’tis Nay—or Yes—

Acquiescence—or Demurral—

Whosoever guess—

He—must pass the Crystal Angle

That obscure Her face—

He—must have achieved in person

Equal Paradise—