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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409109" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Stanzas: A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter, Arrayed For An Approaching Bridal.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Written in Illustration of a Tableau Vivant</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,<br>My own dead mother gazed upon my face,<br>As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,<br>I had not half her beauty and her grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet that fond mother praised, the world caressed,<br>And ONE adored me -- how shall HE who soon<br>Shall wear my gentle flower upon his breast,<br>Prize to its utmost worth the priceless boon?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shall he not gird her, guard her, make her rich,<br>(Not as the world is rich, in outward show,)<br>With all the love and watchful kindness which<br>A wise and tender manhood may bestow?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! I shall part from her with many tears,<br>My earthly treasure, pure and undefiled!<br>And not without a weight of anxious fears<br>For the new future of my darling child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet -- for well I know that virgin heart --<br>No wifely duty will she leave undone;<br>Nor will her love neglect that woman's art<br>Which courts and keeps a love already won.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In no light girlish levity she goes<br>Unto the altar where they wait her now,<br>But with a thoughtful, prayerful heart that knows<br>The solemn purport of a marriage vow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And she will keep, with all her soul's deep truth,<br>The lightest pledge which binds her love and life;<br>And she will be -- no less in age than youth<br>My noble child will be -- a noble wife.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he, her lover! husband! what of him?<br>Yes, he will shield, I think, my bud from blight!<br>Yet griefs will come -- enough! my eyes are dim<br>With tears I must not shed -- at least, to-night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bless thee, my daughter! -- Oh! she is so fair! --<br>Heaven bend above thee with its starriest skies!<br>And make thee truly all thou dost appear<br>Unto a lover's and thy mother's eyes!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Timrod">Henry Timrod</a><div class=q>
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Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.

Yet that fond mother praised, the world ..."></div>
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