Poem by Benjamin Brierley

To My Wife

       (ON HER 59TH BIRTHDAY.)

NOW "all that glitters is not gold,"
    A lesson learn from that, dear wife!
The sun that's bright at morning-tide,
    Is like the transient morn of life.
At noon it pales its morning beams;
    The sky assumes a sober grey,
As if the calm of eventide,
    Would chase in sleep all cares away.

Another morn, a brighter morn,
    May greet with joy our waking hour,
A sun of Heavenly gold may shine,
    Not plated o'er by earthly power,
But gemmed as with a coronal,
    Formed of the purest crystal ray,
And stream afar, like an angel's smile;
    The light of an Eternal day.

1. “Owd Ab's” Lament over Knott Mill Fair
2. Fotchin' th' Keaws up
3. The Waverlow Bells
4. Fall of Sebastopol
5. To Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Edinburgh on Her Wedding

Conrad Aiken To My Wife ("Whatever loveliness is in this music")

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