The Wedding Posy

Thanks to thy newly-wedded hand, which gave
These bridal honours to the tomb to-day,
A daughter's wedding posy! Who shall say
It is a truant at a father's grave?
O'er the blue hills, fair Edith, thou art gone;
Thou and thy votive flowers are sunder'd wide;
But still ye are so tenderly allied
On earth, that your twin sweetness shall be one
In heaven. Our Father's eye shall ne'er reprove
The bride's recurrence to the daughter's love.
And when thou hast fulfill'd thy days and hours,
And thy pure life its meed of glory brings,
The earliest passage of thine angel wings
Among the blest shall tell of orange flowers!