 | Plays and poems |  |
449
[Here let the motions of the world be still]
Here let the motions of the world be still!—Here let Time's fleet and tireless pinions stay
Their endless flight!—or to the present day
Bind my Love's life and mine. I have my fill
Of earthly bliss: to move, is to meet ill.
Though lavish Fortune in my path might lay
Fame, power, and wealth,—the toys that make the play
Of earth's grown children,—I would rather till
The stubborn furrows of an arid land,
Toil with the brute, bear famine and disease,
Drink bitter bondage to the very lees,
Than break our union by love's tender band,
Or drop its glittering shackles from my hand,
To grasp at empty glories such as these.
| Plays and poems | |