William Harrison Ainsworth

The Twice-Used Ring

“Beware thy bridal day!”
	On her death-bud sighed my mother; 
“Beware, beware, I say,
	Death shall wed thee, and no other. 
		Cold the hand shall grasp thee, 
		Cold the arm shall clasp thee, 
	Colder lips thy kiss shall smother!                 
			Beware thy bridal kiss!

“Thy wedding ring shall be
	From a clay-cold finger taken; 
From one that, like to thee, 
	Was by her love forsaken. 
		For a twice-used ring 
		Is a fatal thing;
	Her griefs who wore it are partaken –  
			Beware that fatal ring!

“The altar and the grave
	Many steps are not asunder; 
Bright banners o’er thee wave, 
	Shrouded horror lieth under. 
		Blithe may sound the bell, 
		Yet ’twill toll thy knell; 
	Scathed thy chaplet by the thunder – 
			Beware that blighted wreath!”

Beware my bridal day!
	Dying lips my doom have spoken; 
Deep tones call me away;
	From the grave is sent a token. 
		Cold, cold fingers bring 
		That ill-omen’d ring;
	Soon will a second heart be broken; 
			This is my bridal day.