From yonder church a wedding
Came forth one day,
Only in this particular —
It was late in the day;
For the locks of the bride and bridegroom
Were streaked with gray.

Their youth lay far behind them;
Alone had tried
The up-grades of life's mountain,
This groom and bride,
They now clasp hands together
On the downhill side.

Broadly the stupid wondered;
Yet, still and calm,
Sweet peace held close above them
Her boughs of palm,
And touched the wounds of old battles
With healing balm.

A year had passed. At nightfall
I saw them stand
At the door of a vine-wreathed cottage —
Hand held in hand —
While the tides of a crimson sunset
O'erflowed the land.

The crimson ebbed; the shadows
Stole down the dell;
With its peaceful benediction.
The twilight fell,
And the faint, sweet tone came floating
Of a far-off bell.

I listened, and heard a sentence
With meaning great.
The wife was whispering softly,
" The perfect mate,
After long years of waiting,
Found — not too late. "