Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/75

Rh

Best, kindest, weep not;—make the pang, The bitter conflict, less— Oh! sad it is, and yet a joy, To feel thy love's excess!

But calm thee! Let the thought of death A solemn peace restore! The voice that must be silent soon, Would speak to thee once more, That thou mayst bear its blessing on   Through years of after life— A token of consoling love, Even from this hour of strife.

I bless thee for the noble heart, The tender, and the true, Where mine hath found the happiest rest That e'er fond woman's knew; I bless thee, faithful friend and guide, For my own, my treasured share,