Gerald Massey

The Patriot to His Bride

WILL you leave the fond bosom of Home, where
    Bliss hath been from your earliest waking?
Can you give its endearments to come, where
    Life hath many a hot heart-aching?
Have you counted the cost to stand by me,
    In the battle I fight for Man?
And shall your angel-love deify me,
    Who stand in the world's dark ban?
O, a daring high soul you will need, dear love,
    To brave the life-battle with me:
For your true heart may oftentimes bleed, dear love,
    And your sweet eyes dim tearfully.

Sweet! know you of gallant hearts perishing,—
    The fine spirits that dumbly bow?
For a little of Fortune's cherishing,
    They are breaking in agony now!
And without the sunshine that life needeth,
    Alas! Sweet! for me and for you:
But little the careless world heedeth
    For love like ours, tender and true!
O, a daring high soul you will need, dear love,
    To brave the life-battle with me:
For your true heart may oftentimes bleed, dear love,
    And your sweet eyes dim tearfully.

Well, you've sworn, I have sworn, God hath bound us,
    In a covenant the world shall not part;
I have flung my love's purple around us,
    And you live in each pulse of my heart!
It may be our name in Earth's story
    Shall endure when we are no more;
For love lives as the Stars burn in glory,
    And the Flowers bud on Earth's green floor.
But a daring high soul you will need, dear love,
    To brave the life-battle with me:
For your true heart may oftentimes bleed, dear love,
    And your sweet eyes dim tearfully.