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May the bliss this day begun,
Never faulter, never cease;
Hand in hand in wisdom's ways,
May your path thro' life be trod,
Guided by the hand of grace,
Favor'd with the smiles of God.

Should a thorny path appear,
Gloomy clouds o’erhang the sky,
Fear not, there's salvation near,
Lo, a Saviour's ever nigh;
On before you he will go,
Angel of the cov'nant still,
Strong to conquer ev'ry foe,
Strong to guard from ev'ry ill.

Mutual love, sweet sympathy,
Kindly soothing ev'ry care,
Keep your life from discord free,
Each the other's burden bear;
While your Father's gracious eye,
And his providential hand,
Ev'ry want shall well supply,
Till you in his presence stand.

Then around his glorious throne,
Hand in hand to sing his praise,
On his head to set the crown,
Bless him thro' eternal days :
O may this your portion be ;
Happy pair, ye then shall prove
Genuine, rich felicity,
Here and in the realms above.

TO MR. AND MRS, T......... D...........,


Hail! happy pair, whose hearts and hands,
United in the strongest bands
That heav'n can form, or love compose,
To soothe the weight of human woes ;
For you, shall rosy Hymen twine
A wreath of amaranth divine,
And smiling on your union, shed
His choicest influence on your head;
For you bright Sol, enthron'd on high,
Shall dart his glories through the sky,
Disperse the glooms, to grace the day,
And chace the wint'ry clouds away ;
For you, the gay, the new-born year
Shall in her vernal robes appear.
The blooming beauties of the spring
And friendship teach the Muse to sing.

Say, what can soothe the brow of care,
And life's rude breaches best repair?
Say, what its brightest joys refine,
And happiness with wedlock join?
'Tis not the pompous glare of gold,
No, bliss is oft for mammon sold :
The sordid mind in ev'ry state,
Is poor, ('tis so decreed by fate),
'Tis mutual friendship, mutual love,
A sacred spark dropp'd from above,

A pure, etherial, gen'rous flame,
A much dishonor'd, injur'd name,
Prophan'd too oft....yet where 'tis found,
Peace and content are smiling round.

May this be yours, and as your days Increase, and time runs on his race, Still may it deeper strike its root, And then 'twill bear you precious fruit; Twill soothe and soften ev'ry woe, When in a painful path you go, Refine your bliss, each joy exalt, And kindly cover every fault ; 'Twill banish discord far away, And make each morn your wedding day.

But Oh! reflect, sublunar bliss, The highest earthly happiness, The summit gain'd, must soon decay, Must fade, and droop, and die away; Death at one stroke, will lay it low, And hid those joys no longer flow; Then seek those pleasures which endure Forever vast, forever sure ; Immortal souls should pánt for joys At God's right hand in paradise ; Where interruption cannot come, But life and bliss forever bloom : There may you meet, in that great day, When heav'n and earth shall pass away, Arrayed in white, the bridal dress Of Jesus' perfect righteousness, And at the marriage supper prove The wonders of redeeming love.





WHERE, gentle Muse, dost thou abide ?
If on Parnassus' verdant side,
Leaf crown'd, or in the flow'ry dell,
Lowly recluse, thou lov'st to dwell :
Inspir'd by friendship, come away
And cheerful gratulations pay,
Melodious as the warhling lark, or softer linnet's lay:
As dew-drops sparkling o'er the lawn,
New from the


rosy morn,
Distils with each succeeding dawn ;
As Phæbus keeps a constant pace,
Nor tires amidst his glorious race,
Nor stops till in his noontide hour,
Earth glows beneath the genial pow'r.

Come thus, ye heav'nly show'rs, ye dews
Of grace and mercy, and diffuse
Love and joy, and peace around,
Let the pair by Hymen crown'd;
In the best of gifts divine
Ever prosper, ever shine,
Rich in the gracious smiles of heav'n benign.


Hail ! gentle pair, Made one in Hymen's sacred bands, United hearts, united hands :

Long may you share Domestic happiness, and prove The sweetness of connubial love, Founded on its strongest base, Deeply cemented by grace, This will soften ev'ry woe, If in painful paths you go, Calm each storm, for storms oft rise, Pilgrims know, below the skies :

May your Father's eye Ever watchful, guard you round ;

May his liberal hand Plenteous blessings on you pour,

Blessings of the upper sky; Biessings of the fruitful vale, Till with truth and mercy crown'd: Ev'ry storm and tempest o'er, Soft and gentle be the gale, Wafts you to the happy land, Where the ransom'd of the Lord, Tune their harps, and sing his praise. Worthy he to be ador'd, God of love, and God of grace.

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