The threshold of our door.
I'll ne'er forget his locks of jet,
His brow of Alpine snow,
His manly grace of form and face,
Some twenty years ago.

The hand he asked I freely gave--
Mine was a happy lot,
In all my pride to be his bride
Within my father's cot.
The faith he spoke he never broke:
His faithful heart I know;
And well I vow I love him now
As twenty years ago.





National Anthem.




Freedom spreads her downy wings
Over all created things;
Glory to the King of kings,
Bend low to Him the knee!
Bring the heart before His throne--
Worship Him and Him alone!--