If in my soul,dear,An omen should dwell,Bidding me pause,ere I love thee too well;If the whole circle,Of noble and wise,With stern forebodings,Between us should rise.
I will tell THEM,dear,That Love reigns--a King,Where storms cannot reach him,And words cannot sting;He counts it dishonour His faith to recall;
He trusts;--and for ever He gives--and gives all!
I will tell THEE,dear,That Love is--a Slave,Who dreads thought of *******,As life dreads the grave;And if doubt or peril Of change there may be,Such fear would but drive him Still nearer to thee!
