A scarf, to wrap the snow-white breast,
And gems to deck the hair.

Elfrida, at her lattice high,
Sits with the bridal throng--
She looks and looks--then heaves a sigh--
"Why tarries he so long?"

He comes!--'tis he!--and by his side
Attend a noble band--
He comes to claim his royal bride--
His lov'd Elfrida's hand.

The wish'd-for hour is gone and past;--
Slow chimes the marriage-bell;
May Heav'n forbid it prove his last--
The bridegroom's fun'ral knell!

The priest before the altar stands--
The bride bends on her knee,
And lifts to God her heart and hands
In pious fervency!

But where is _he_, who should have knelt
Before his Maker, low?
And where are _they_, who might have felt
What none but parents know!

In vain she waits, and looks around,
Still vainer are her cries;