Epithalamium

I saw two clouds at morning,   Tinged with the rising sun, And in the dawn they floated on,   And mingled into one: I thought that morning cloud was blest, It moved so sweetly to the west. I saw two summer currents   Flow smoothly to their meeting, And join their course, with silent force,   In peace each other greeting: Calm was their course through banks of green, While dimpling eddies played between. Such be your gentle motion,   Till life’s last pulse shall beat; Like summer’s beam, and summer’s stream,   Float on, in joy, to meet A calmer sea, where storms shall cease— A purer sky, where all is peace.