Marshall County Republican., 1873-07-03
TO MY WIFE.
BY BENZ. F. TAYLOR.

Past twenty-one and loves of age,
Has lost his wings and gained his eyes,
Looks down on life's unended page,
Looks up and sees the azure skies.
He's safe to stay while abide,
His time for flight forever past,
Twill be we three whate'er betide,
While roses blow and lilacs last.
No bankrupt firm is this of ours,
But rich as June in suns and showers.
Bring out the ledger! Every thing
That men call gains shall be for sale
Ay, let them go for what they'll bring,
We'll keep our losses till we fall
OF old when Judalls children wed,
They pledged their faith in crimson wine,
Then broke the crystal as they said
No lips shall touch its brine but mine!
This shall no meaner love profane J"
The shattered symbol fell like rain.
None stopped to pick the fragments up
All knew the thing the token meant;
Behold one love had crowned the cup,
No matter where the goblet went!
And so, my wife, in Judah's way
We've drank lfe's golden draught of wine,
And strewn the vases glitter1ng clay
See where the sculptured fragments shinei
The ledger nowi Let it be Known
How rich and grand this Firm has grown.
The flock of clouds we always keep
Are marked with rainbows every one.
We know our own celestial sheep
That throng the blue and Craze the sun;
'Tis fine to see them trooping home,
Their 1eeces tangled thick with stars;
'1is fine to watch them as they come
And wait at Evenings golden bars;
Their shadows fall upon our way,
Is if old Night had walked by day
And left her footprints as she went;
Some look like graves of friends that died,
Whose sunken mounds the sward mdent,
OF babe and gallant bridegroom's bride,
Of golden tress and silver hair
And some like hopes our hearts have shed,
That fell as leaves in autumn air,
And crush beneath our thoughtful tread.
Dear Wife, we have no clouds to sell
They make the sunshine shoto so well!
An angel troop this Firm commands,
A score and one they stand in line,
And swing aloft in radiant hands
A score and one of Ewes divine,
OF Christmas Ewes and Christmas bells
And Christmas gifts with blessing twice,
That bring us all, by mystic spells,
In kissing range of Paradisei
My Wife, we would not give them up
To mend again the shattered eup
A score and one of kindling Junes,
The warm and blushing brides of Time,
Are ranged along ike notes in tunes,
And keep our hearts in rythmic rhyme.
We own score of belfried towers
Where bird-like Wishes, bred and born,
ARE singing SOnSs-l0OSe DlruS are ours
We count our twentieth New Years Morn
No birds to sell, nor songs nor chimes,
Well keep them all till harder timesi
We have some castles gray and grand
That cloudless suns do shine upon;
Along tn 9lls retainers stand
A, : Castilian every one.
Nebo, l-,s who dwelleth there,
They have cline where tempests swoon,
No graves to make, no empty chair
And Christmas III the month of June!
III make the deeds-youll sign them sure,
And castles twelve wen give the poori
We've had wealth Of dreams as rife
AS corn along the bladed West,
We have them still in broider'd life,
Like flowers upon wedding vest.
There comes little sounder sleep,
There comes richer flush Of dawn,
Till then we'll keep our focks of sheep,
No castle, cloud or angel gone.
Down flag vi red Well make no sale,
But hold our losses till we fail
To make all sure my Will behold:
"To Her who kept this Firm alive
now bequeath my clouds of gold,
My angel choir, my castles five,
My score OF belfrles. all my sheep,
The fragments of the scuptured vase
To have and hold and ever keepi"
And yet I've done no act of grace,
They all are yours, but whose are you?
freely give and keep them too.