The Happy Husband

Oft, oft methinks, the while with TheeI breathe, as from the heart, thy dearAnd dedicated name, I hearA promise and a mystery,A pledge of more than passing life,Yea, in that very name of Wife!

A pulse of love, that ne'er can sleep!A feeling that upbraids the heartWith happiness beyond desert,That gladness half requests to weep!Nor bless I not the keener senseAnd unalarming turbulence

Of transient joys, that ask no stingFrom jealous fears, or coy denying;But born beneath Love's brooding wing,

And into tenderness soon dying,Wheel out their giddy moment, thenResign the soul to love again.

A more precipitated veinOf notes, that eddy in the flowOf smoothest song, they come, they go,And leave their sweeter understrainIts own sweet self—a love of TheeThat seems, yet cannot greater be!