George Pope Morris

Love Thee, Dearest!

Love thee, dearest?—Hear me.—Never
 Will my fond vows be forgot!
May I perish, and for ever,
 When, dear maid, I love thee not!
Turn not from me, dearest!—Listen!
 Banish all thy doubts and fears!
Let thine eyes with transport glisten!
 What hast thou to do with tears?

Dry them, dearest!—Ah, believe me,
 Love's bright flame is burning still!
Though the hollow world deceive thee,
 Here's a heart that never will!
Dost thou smile?—A cloud of sorrow
 Breaks before Joy's rising sun!
Wilt thou give thy hand?—To-morrow,
 Hymen's bond will make us one!