The ring is on my hand,

And the wreath is on my brow;

Satins and jewels grand

Are all at my command,

And I am happy now.

 

And my lord he loves me well,

But, when first he breathed his vow,

I felt my bosom swell —

For the words rang like a knell,

And the voice seemed his who fell

In the battle down the dell,

And who is happy now.

 

But he spoke to re-assure me,

And he kissed my pallid brow,

While a reverie came o’re me,

And to the church-yard bore me,

And I sighed to him before me,

Thinking him dead D’Elormie,

“Oh, I am happy now!”

 

And thus the words were spoken,

And this the plighted vow,

And, though my faith be broken,

And, though my heart be broken,

Behold the golden token

That proves me happy now!

 

Would God I could awaken!

For I dream I know not how,

And my soul is sorely shaken

Lest an evil step be taken, —

Lest the dead who is forsaken

May not be happy now.

EDGAR A. POE.