The Courtship of Miles Standish

Forth from the curtain of clouds, from the tent of purple and scarlet, / Issued the sun, the great High-Priest, in his garments resplendent, / Holiness unto the Lord, in letters of light, on his forehead, / Round the hem of his robe the golden bells and pomegranates. / Blessing the world he came, and the bars of vapor beneath him / Gleamed like a grate of brass, and the sea at his feet was a laver!

This was the wedding morn of Priscilla the Puritan maiden. / Friends were assembled together; the Elder and Magistrate also / Graced the scene with their presence, and stood like the Law and the Gospel, / One with the sanction of earth and one with the blessing of heaven. / Simple and brief was the wedding, as that of Ruth and of Boaz. / Softly the youth and the maiden repeated the words of betrothal, / Taking each other for husband and wife in the Magistrate's presence, / After the Puritan way, and the laudable custom of Holland. / Fervently then, and devoutly, the excellent Elder of Plymouth / Prayed for the hearth and the home, that were founded that day in affection, / Speaking of life and of death, and imploring divine benedictions.