Epithalamium

Day rise naught tonight

Give the rising aubade no consort

For her pyre will scald away thee desires

A hard man’s labour wilt not devour thine zeal

 

Today we coalesce

The gray mare and her baron

Into an alliance of nuptial benediction

 

The torch of Hymen

Lights thine way to his temple

‘Tis to be a matron’s birth

 

Shed no tears

You

Coming squaws

Your time will come

 

The thoroughfare of passionate piety

‘Tis open to you

Dear mate to come old dowager

Thine eyes

My burgeoning Vesta

Art effulgent of dolor

 

Settle the pact

For all the world’s sake.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.