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 dishonor

His faith to recall;

He trusts; -- and forever

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!