That is a portrait of me on the wall—
Three lines, my face comes at so slight a call:
And for all this, one little hour to thank!
But now, because the hour through years was fixed,
Because our inmost beings met and mixed,
Because thou once hast loved me—wilt thou dare
Say to thy soul and Who may list beside,
"Therefore she is immortally my bride;
Chance cannot change my love, nor time impair.
"So, what if in the dusk of life that's left,