Poems (Procter)/King and Slave

​

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!
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.