Death, So Called, Is A Thing Which

And Doubt And Discord Step 'twixt Thine And Thee.

Such Partings Break The Heart They Fondly Hope To Heal.

Like To The Apples On The Dead Sea's Shore, All Ashes To The Taste.

Oh! Too Convincing--dangerously Dear-- In Woman's Eye The Unanswerable Tear! That Weapon Of Her Weakness She Can Wield, To Save, Subdue--at Once Her Spear And Shield.

I Am About To Be Married, And Am Of Course In All The Misery Of A Man In Pursuit Of Happiness.