Her thoughts are sweet glimpses of heaven, Her life is that heaven brought down; Oh, never to mortal was given So rare and bejewelled a crown!

I'll wear it as saints wear the glory That radiantly clasps them above-- Oh, dower most fair!

Oh, diadem rare!

Bright crown of her maidenly love.

My heart is a fane of devotion, My feelings are converts at prayer, And every thrill of emotion Makes dearer the crown I would wear.

My soul in its fulness of rapture Begins its millennial reign, Life glows like a sun, Love's zenith is won, And Joy is sole monarch again.

My noonday of life is as morning, G.o.d's light streams approvingly down; Uncovered, I wait her adorning, She comes with the beautiful crown!

I'll wear it as saints wear the glory That radiantly clasps them above-- Oh, dower most fair!

Oh, diadem rare!

Bright crown of her maidenly love.

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MARILINE.

At the wheel plied Mariline, Beauteous and self-serene, Never dreaming of that mien Fit for lady or for queen.

Never sang she, but her words, Music-laden, swept the chords

Of the heart, that eagerly Stored the subtle melody, Like the honey in the bee; Never spake, but showed that she

Held the golden master-key That unlocked all sympathy

Pent in souls where Feeling glows, Like the perfume in the rose, Like her own innate repose, Like the whiteness in the snows.

Richly thoughted Mariline!

Nature's heiress!--nature's queen!

II.

By her side, with liberal look, Paused a student o'er a book, Wielder of a shepherd's crook, Reveller by grove and brook:

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Hunter-up of musty tomes, Worshipper of deathless poems:

Lover of the true and good, Hater of sin's evil brood, Votary of solitude, Man, of mind-like amplitude.

With exalted eye serene Gazed he on fair Mariline.

Swifter whirled the busy wheel, Piled the thread upon the reel-- Saw she not his spirit kneel, Praying for her after-weal?

Like the wife of Collatine, Busily spun Mariline.

III.

Hour by hour, and day by day, Sang the maid her roundelay; Hour by hour, and day by day, Spun her threads of white and gray.

While the shepherd-student held Commune with the great of eld:

Pondered on their wondrous words, While he watched his scattered herds, While he stemmed the surging fords.

And he knew the lore of birds,

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Learned the secrets of the rills, Conversed with the answering hills.

Like her threads of white and gray, Pa.s.sed their mingled Eves away, One unceasing roundelay-- Winter came, it still was May!

IV.

When the spring smiled, opening up Pink-lipped flower and acorn cup;

When the summer waked the rose In the scented briar boughs; When the earth, with painless throes, Bore her golden autumn rows--

Field on field of grain, that pressed, Childlike, to her fruitful breast--

When hale winter wrapped his form In the mantle of the storm, Tamed the bird, and chilled the worm, Stopped the pulse that thrilled the germ;

As the seasons went and came, One in heart, and hope, and aim,

Cheered they each the other on, Where was labor to be done, At day-break or set of sun, Like two thoughts that merge in one.

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Dignified, and soul-serene, Busily spun Mariline.

V.

Brightly broke the summer morn, Like a lark from out the corn,-- Broke like joy just newly born From the depths of woe forlorn,--

Broke with grateful songs of birds, Lowings of well-pastured herds;

Hailed by childhood's happy looks, Cheered by anthems of the brooks-- Chants beyond the lore of books-- Cawing crows, instead of rooks.

Glowed the heavens--rose the sun, Mariline was up, for one.

VI.