When the fourth of a century more shall go,
Dear friends, if you may not stay,

To wear your locks like a wreath of snow
For a golden-wedding day,

Then with the robe and the crown of light
May you still sit side by side,

Where clothed in linen pure and white
The Lamb receives his Bride.

On the same Anniversary Occasion, for Mrs. Cheever, from Miss Alice Cary.

53 East Twentieth Street, Nov. 22, 1870.

MY FRIENDS:-I cannot tell you how pleasant it would be to me if I might go out from my solitary house today, and be for a little season among those whom the Lord has set in families, but it may not be, and let me not admit the impediment of a private grief to mar with its shadow the cordial sunshine of my greeting upon the glad return of this auspicious day. Shut out from you though I am, I am very happy in your happiness, believe me, I, for one, having firm faith in the indestructibility of the great passion-that love is nearer the gate of heaven than ever imagination soars, and I rejoice with all my heart in all unions, and all celebrations of unions, that intimate, or rather exemplify, life's grand possibilities. With a thousand good wishes,

D1

1871.

EAR Love, when we began our joint career, It was a day of mingled joy and fear; What time might late reveal we could not tell, Nor know the end of what commenced so well. Hope laid the back-log of our kitchen fire,

Substantial force against imagined sorrow; The flame was lit with faith and warm desire

That what but smoked that day would blaze to

morrow;

Now all is turned to rife and glowing coal,
The joy of harvest shining through the whole.

Now Nature, in her bridal robe invested,
Comes forth to greet us on this joyous day;
By lingering summer's balmy air arrested,
The seasons in their virginal array

Proclaim our welcome to that world of beauty

Where souls and forms, renewed in endless youth,

Forever find in ceaseless love and duty.

Eternal elements of grace and truth.

Father in Heaven, whose love hath thus far brought

us,

And given the hope to be forever thine,

Fulfil the yearning promise thou hast taught us,
And to perfection raise thy blest design.
And when in us on earth thy will 's completed,
Oh, take us each to that celestial sphere

Where the Lamb's Bride by her dear Lord is greeted,

And perfect faith is love's eternal year.

1872.

DAY of love, so sweet, so bright,

The bridal of our year,

The morning of our life's delight

To us renewed, how dear!

The brilliant air, the sparkling frost,
The rime upon the ground,
The trees, the ferns, the silvery leaves
With light and glory crowned.

We do not need the summer sun,
Nor miss the autumn flowers;
The soft, entrancing, balmy airs

Of Indian months are ours.

They breathe to us in signs well known,
A language for the heart, -
The voice of joy's ecstatic tone,
Love's dear mysterious art.

The most melodious day in June

Such treasures ne'er revealed, Nor ever wedding day came round With sweeter blessings sealed.

Dear wife, with love's sweet grace renewed,
Its flowers still fresh and green,
Nor this world's ways nor solitude.
Could ever change the scene.

O Thou, our Life, our Light, our All!
Still keep, as heretofore,

Our going out, our coming in,

Now and forevermore.