To A Lady With A Ring

TO A LADY WITH A RING

Sweet Valentine, dear Lady Mine,
Love lays an offering at your shrine;
Yet seeks not by this span of gold
That which would reach through years untold,
Would burn when life itself is cold.
Not with the dazzling fitful gleam
That gilds the stripling's fever-dream
(For love, the dream-love of the boy,
Is but a glimmering summer toy),
But with the strong and steady glow,

But with the deep and tender flow,
That a man's heart alone can know,
Pouring his soul out at her feet
Whose smile can make all dark things sweet.
Love undivided, close, and dear,
With ready arm to guide and cheer,
His breast her shield from every fear, -
Love, changeless still, where change is rife,
Through storm and calm, through peace and
strife,
For grief, for joy, for death, for life!
Love breathed in one soft whisper, - Wife.

H. Cholmondeley-Pennell.