Love thee! yes, yes! the storms that rend aside
All other ties will but entwine my heart
More closely, more devotedly to thine.
Love thee!—but that I know how heavily
Sorrow hath press'd thy generous spirit down,
I should almost reproach thee for the doubt!
I have no thought, that does not dwell on thee;
No hope, in which thou minglest not; no wish,
In which thou bearest no part; my orisons
To heaven, begin and end with thy dear name:
My fate is link'd with thine—I did not plight
My vows to thee for a mere summer day,
But still to be unchang'd; it was most sweet
To share thy sunlight of prosperity,
Thine hours of brightness; now I only ask
To share thy sorrow, and to be to thee
All tenderness, and love, and constancy—
A feeling, lighting up thy desolate heart;
A fountain springing in the wilderness;
Or as the breeze upon the fever'd brow,
Soothing the pain it may not chase away.