Thank God, I Glory in Thy Love!

Thank God, I glory in thy love, and mine!
And if they win a warm blush to my cheek,
It is not shame—it is a joy divine,
That only there its wild bright life may speak.

From that most sacred and ecstatic hour,
When, soul to soul, with blissful thrill we met,
My love became a passion, and a power,
Too proud, too high, for shame or for regret.

Come to me, dearest, noblest!—lean thy head,
Thy gracious head, once more upon my breast;
I will not shrink nor tremble, but, instead,
Exulting, soothe thee into perfect rest.

I know thy nature, fervent, fond, yet strong,
That holds o’er passion an imperial sway;
I know thy proud, pure heart, that would not wrong
The frailest life that flutters in thy way;

And I, who love and trust thee, shall not I
Be safe and sacred on that generous heart?
Albeit, with wild and unavailing sigh,
Less firm than thou, I grieve that we should part!

Ah! let thy voice, in dear and low replies,
Chide the faint doubt I sooner say than think;
Come to me, darling!—from those earnest eyes
The immortal life of love I fain would drink!

Frances Sargent Osgood