If in my soul, dear,
An omen should dwell,
Bidding me pause, ere
I love thee too well;
If the whole circle
Of noble and wise,
With stern forebodings,
Between us should rise; --

I will tell them, dear,
That Love reigns -- a King
Where storms cannot reach him,
And words cannot sting;
He counts it dishonor
His faith to recall;
He trusts ; -- and forever
He gives -- and gives all!

I will tell thee, dear,
That Love is -- a Slave,
Who dreads thought of freedom,
As life dreads the grave;
And if doubt or peril
Of change there may be,
Such fear would but drive him
Still nearer to thee!