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[A DECLARATION]

If to believe that dreams were truth,
And all the fond romance of youth;
Each pictured charm that fancy prized
In one fair form now realized—
If to sum up in that dear scope
My all of joy, my all of hope;
Where faithlessness there could be none,
For all the sex was merg'd in one—
If to be happy in her nearness,
Holding her very silk in dearness;
As if my heart could have no home
But where she was, or was to come—
If from the contact of a finger,
An after-bliss for days could linger,
A feeling kept secure and chaste
Till by the next sweet touch effac'd—
If to pine after pow'r and glory
But for one sake—if in love-story,
To make each tenderest phrase refer
All that is bright and good to her—
If with all thoughts to haunt her bow'r
True as the bee is to the flow'r;
Her image join'd with all day-scheming,
And nightly worshipped in all dreaming—
If these be signs that Love delivers,
I am thy lover, fair Grace Rivers!