 | The Poems of John Byrom |  |
TO HIS WIFE.
97
I
Partner of all my joys and cares,Whether in poverty or wealth,
For thee I put up all my pray'rs,
Well-heard if answer'd by thy health;
II
Long absence, cruel as it is,Content still longer to endure
98
The tedious torment could procure!
III
Joyous or grievous my employ,Absence itself would give relief,
Could I but give thee all the joy,
And bear myself alone the grief.
IV
Lost in this place of grand resort,Though crowds succeeding crowds I see,
Quite from the city to the Court
'Tis all a wilderness to me!
V
Amidst a world of gaudy scenesAround me glittering I move;
I wander, heedless what it means,
Bent on the thoughts of her I love.
VI
Still I usurp that Sacred Sound,Too often and too long profan'd;—
When shall I tread the happy ground
Where Love and Truth may be obtain'd?
VII
Let me and my belovèd spouseWith mutual ardour strive to quit
99
And Heav'n into our hearts admit!
VIII
There let th' endearing hope take place,Though parted here, to meet above
In a perpetual chaste embrace,
United, Jesu, in Thy love!
| The Poems of John Byrom | |