Wild honey from various thyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

Walk through the garden of the falling leaves,
Walk with me, O my God!—yet should'st thou speak
Of love, I fear me that my heart would break:
With other love remorsefully it heaves,
And for the perished roses sobs and grieves.
And yet one test I do not flinch from—take
The creature fairest that Thy Hands did make,
From whom my soul morning and eve receives
Her dew, and all the confines of her light,
And let her mingle with the mists and fall
Sooner than Thou...Thou dost accept the cry,
Thrust forth the sacrifice; and, standing by
With her, my sovereign and my sole delight,
We worship Thee in faith perpetual.