A Hero's bride, by Nature made!
— Yet rather who hath stood,
And with a hero's soul obeyed
A vision pure of blood.
Ah me! what bliss—if it could be—
Acknowledged by thy love,
To breast the world below with thee,
To scale the world above!
Ah me! from lower cares of earth
By such a mate redeemed,
What I have hoped, to body forth,
To do what I have dreamed!
O for a soul by thee imbued
With energies severe,
To hold the faith in fortitude,
Until the darkness clear.
What were a life, thou looking on!
The dagger of thy tear
The goad,—a smile of thine the crown
Of the immense career!
O rather for the gloomy days
Of ordinary life,
Enlightened by thy love, thy praise,
A sympathising wife:
By the pure privilege of love
The inner strife to see,
When angels bring from realms above
Some tear-crowned victory;
Or,—milder bliss—in some green nook
While summer suns decline,
To read some pure and peaceful book,
Her eyelight mixed with mine!