Classic Poem

BY JAMES H. PERKINS .

Oh! merry, merry be the day,
 And bright the star of even—
For 't is our duty to be gay,
And tread in holy joy our way;
 Grief never came from Heaven,
My love—
 It never came from Heaven.

Then let us not, though woes betide,
 Complain of Fortune's spite, love;
As rock-encircled trees combine,
And nearer grow, and closer twine,
 So let our hearts unite,
My love—
 So let our hearts unite.

And though the circle here be small
 Of heartily approved ones,
There is a home beyond the skies,
Where vice shall sink and virtue rise,
 Till all become the loved ones,
Love—
 Till all become the loved ones.

Then let your eye be laughing still,
 And cloudless be your brow;
For in that better world above,
Oh! many myriads shall we love
 As one another now,
My love—
 As one another now.