THE WIFE'S WILL.

Sit still — a word — a breath may break

( As light airs stir a sleeping lake )

The glassy calm that soothes my woes —

The sweet, the deep, the full repose.

O leave me not! for ever be

Thus, more than life itself to me!

Yes, close beside thee let me kneel —

Give me thy hand, that I may feel

The friend so true — so tried — so dear,

My heart's own chosen — indeed is near;

And check me not — this hour divine

Belongs to me — is fully mine.

‘ Tis thy own hearth thou sitt'st beside,

After long absence — wandering wide;

‘ Tis thy own wife reads in thine eyes

A promise clear of stormless skies;

For faith and true love light the rays

Which shine responsive to her gaze.

Ay,— well that single tear may fall;

Ten thousand might mine eyes recall,

Which from their lids ran blinding fast,

In hours of grief, yet scarcely past;

Well mayst thou speak of love to me,

For, oh! most truly — I love thee!

Yet smile — for we are happy now.

Whence, then, that sadness on thy brow?

What sayst thou?” We muse once again,

Ere long, be severed by the main!”

I knew not this — I deemed no more

Thy step would err from Britain's shore.

“Duty commands!”‘ Tis true —‘ tis just;

Thy slightest word I wholly trust,

Nor by request, nor faintest sigh,

Would I to turn thy purpose try;

But, William, hear my solemn vow —

Hear and confirm!— with thee I go.

“Distance and suffering,” didst thou say?

“Danger by night, and toil by day?”

Oh, idle words and vain are these;

Hear me! I cross with thee the seas.

Such risk as thou must meet and dare,

I — thy true wife — will duly share.

Passive, at home, I will not pine;

Thy toils, thy perils shall be mine;

Grant this — and be hereafter paid

By a warm heart's devoted aid:

‘ Tis granted — with that yielding kiss,

Entered my soul unmingled bliss.

Thanks, William, thanks! thy love has joy,

Pure, undefiled with base alloy;

‘ Tis not a passion, false and blind,

Inspires, enchains, absorbs my mind;

Worthy, I feel, art thou to be

Loved with my perfect energy.

This evening now shall sweetly flow,

Lit by our clear fire's happy glow;

And parting's peace-embittering fear,

Is warned our hearts to come not near;

For fate admits my soul's decree,

In bliss or bale — to go with thee!