The Sad Bridal

By Edmund Clarence Stedman

What would you do, my dear one said, --
What would you do, if I were dead?
If Death should mumble, as he list,
These red lips which now you kist?
What would my love do, were I wed
To that ghastly groom instead;
If o'er me, in the chancel, Death
Should cast his amaranthine wreath, --
Before my eyes, with fingers pale,
Draw down the mouldy bridal veil?
-- Ah no! no! it cannot be!
Death would spare their light, and flee,
And leave my love to Life and me!