Book 2 — THE HAPPY HUSBAND[388:1]

Oft, oft methinks, the while with thee, I breathe, as from the heart, thy dear And dedicated name, I hear A promise and a mystery, A pledge of more than passing life, 5 Yea, in that very name of Wife! A pulse of love, that ne'er can sleep! A feeling that upbraids the heart With happiness beyond desert, That gladness half requests to weep! 10 Nor bless I not the keener sense And unalarming turbulence Of transient joys, that ask no sting From jealous fears, or coy denying; But born beneath Love's brooding wing, 15 And into tenderness soon dying, Wheel out their giddy moment, then Resign the soul to love again;— A more precipitated vein Of notes, that eddy in the flow 20 Of smoothest song, they come, they go, And leave their sweeter understrain, Its own sweet self—a love of Thee That seems, yet cannot greater be!