Chastity. Oragne Flower
ORANGE FLOWER .
How fair the orange-bloom will smile,
Amid that auburn braid!
How soft will burn thy blush the while,
Beneath the bridal shade!
Thou'rt young to wed! — that virgin flower,
White as thine own pure brow,
Just stolen from its dewy bower,
Is not more fresh than thou.
Thou'rt young to wear the bridal-bloom;
Yet go! for in thy heart,
A lovelier blossom lights the gloom,
That timid fears impart. —
The heaven-fed flower of Purity; —
Oh! nurse the snowdrop still!
And in its breath, a charm shall be,
To guard thee from all ill.
How fair the orange-bloom will smile,
Amid that auburn braid!
How soft will burn thy blush the while,
Beneath the bridal shade!
Thou'rt young to wed! — that virgin flower,
White as thine own pure brow,
Just stolen from its dewy bower,
Is not more fresh than thou.
Thou'rt young to wear the bridal-bloom;
Yet go! for in thy heart,
A lovelier blossom lights the gloom,
That timid fears impart. —
The heaven-fed flower of Purity; —
Oh! nurse the snowdrop still!
And in its breath, a charm shall be,
To guard thee from all ill.
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