for Eldridge
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine,
and tie my Valentine!
Oh the Earth was made
for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle
whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a
courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing
single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then
the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his
consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the
precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the
sovereign, he hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the
lowly, the great do seek the small,
None
cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the
flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry
wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the
branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond
demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the
seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so
pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make the solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful,
her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo
the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married,
morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven
a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain
to sue.
Now to the application,
to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to
justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human
solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind
companion, thou reap'st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours,
and minutes all too long,
And a
deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There's Sarah and Eliza
and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan,
and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly
blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens
sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with
caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou
lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the
greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she
asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower—
And bring the fife, and
trumpet, and beat upon the drum—
And bid the world
Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
Valentine
week, 1850