Oh, let me lay my head to-night upon your breast,
And close my eyes against the light, I fain would rest,
I'm weary, and the world looks sad; this worldly strife
Turns me to you; and, oh I'm glad to be your wife!
Though friends may fail or turn aside, yet I have you
And in your love I may abide, for you are true--
My only solace in each grief and in despair,
Your tenderness is my relief; it soothes each care.
If joys of life could alienate this poor weak heart
From yours, then may no pleasure great enough to part
Our sympathies fall to my lot. I'd e'er remain
Bereft of friends, though true or not, just to retain
Your true regard, your presence bright, thro' care and strife
And, oh! I thank my God to-night, I am your wife!
--_Old Clipping._
2020