Your heart not pausing, leapt from safety's shore
Into the flood. O, might I live for thee!
A blessed bondman to thy merest wish,
From hour to hour to watch thy graces bloom
As various as Flora when she loves,
And in each furrow of thy brow that writ
Thee mortal set a new April mocking Time!
Then when no more I could dispute his doom,
Enter with thee a star-lit, sweet old age,
The fane of rest, and sanctuary where