Vignette - Xvii Poem by Matilda Betham

Hopes_ all glowing, _Wishes_ rare,
Blessings_ mixed with many a _Prayer_,
Flowers as yet beyond compare,
Though flourishing in northern air.
Farewells_ twined with tender _Fears_,
Golden day-dreams_, gemm'd with tears,
Affections_ nurtur'd many years,
Before this perfect bloom appears.

Thoughts_ of fondness and of pride,
Love-vanities_ we need not hide;
Heart-blossoms_, in its crimson dyed,
For you, are here together tied.

And yet they all appear too poor,
Though goodness can ensure no more;
Though monarchs, whom the world adore,
Would purchase such with all their store.

And while this charmed gift we send,
We know where'er your footsteps bend,
The looks and tones that win the friend,
That kindness, nature, truth, attend,

Are yours, and must be with you still,
Angelic guards, go where they will,
To ward off much surrounding ill,
And happiest destinies fulfil.