The daily union. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1845-1857, 1847-02-16

To the Editor of the Union
Mrs. Virginia Eliza Murray, daughter of the Hon. D
Dickinson of New York, given away in marriage
the chancel of Chris's church, Bnghamp,on October
9th Just three months from her bridal day the same
clergyman, at the same altar, performing the last sol
mn offices her remains Her father reached Binp.
hampton only time witness her funeral These touch
ng facts gave rise the following lines which you will
lonor me by accepting for the "Unon."
ANN s, STEPHENS
She stood before the altar, meekly pale,
Her soft eyes yelled, and her bright lips apart,
Aswid flowers blush and rembngly exhae
Their delicious fragrance she would start
And trembe at the beating of her heart.
The father stood beside her. calm and mild
For he had learned thar power upon the WILL
By which all passions, turbulent and wild
Are softened to glad painful thrill
And so he babe his heart be firm and still.
Her hand was yet in his-oh! she had been
The dearest thingto which his hopes had chung
On which a thousand laurels had been flung
Casting bright CLEANS around her where they hung
But he had nerved his soul to yield her up,
And 10 T.! the e gentle mother, by his side
OF her bright life drained of its richest pride
Her chid-her household JOY bride 1!
And she was married from that altar stone,
Trembling with timid hope and bashul love,
She turned, half fearful to tho chosen one
And sought his shelfring like some young dove
Lost from its nest home in the skies above
In ioy she sought the parent again
And blessings sent their music TO her heart,
Like the soft drops of that delicious rain,
And with bright tumult, claim an equal part.
They left the altar, with pleasant mirh,
And some half fearful. like an April day,
Where every rain drop gives its blossom birth,
And sunbeams laughing in their golden play
Dash with one sweep the shadows half away.
And then, oppressed with many a regret,
The parents sought their darkened hearth more;
With saddened hearts, and eyes all dim and wet,
They learned to bless the stranger youth who bore
The Jewel from their home the sunbeam from the door
Three months--three little months, and 10, again,
The bride came the temple-not alone
For with her swept dim funereal train,
That slowly gaiher'd round that altar stone,
And bowed themselves with many stifed moan.
The mother! sent for him-that noble sire
And from his place Of lofty trust he came
To this sad second bridal. Then the fire
OF his strong heart went out. Was she the same
Was that cold statue all his hopes might claim
How still and calm, how silently she lay
With that sweet, angel smile upon her brow,
As if n wandering saint had passed that way,
And breathed upon the cold and spotless snow
OF that pure forehead a seraphic glow.
And could she smile-and yet not smile on him
His footsteps, had they failed TO meet her ear
His strong form trembled, and his eye grew dim
oh God that household band was weeping near,
And she lay smiling coldly on her bier. 1fssazlAlA
II was not much, though it had seemed grief
To give her up in all her bridal bloom
For with that parting came sweet belief
OF quick reunion-now, the tomb-the tomb
Hung all its dark and silent gloom
A gush of music, low and sadly sweet
Swelled through the temple Must they yield her then
From this her second bridal Must they meet
The loved and lost more Again again
Angels were hymping out that soft refrain!