Verse: King And Slave

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 dishonour His faith to recall; He trusts;--and for ever 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!