My soul is ever with thee,
My thoughts are ever with thee,
As the flower to the sun, as the lamb to the lea,
So turns my fond spirit to thee.
'Mid the cares of the lingering day,
When troubles around me be,
Fond Fancy for aye will be flitting away--
Away, my beloved, to thee.
When the night-pall darkly spread
O'er shadows, tower, and tree,
Then the visions of my restless bed
Are all, my beloved, of thee.
When I greet the morning beams,
When the midnight star I see,
Alone--in crowded halls--my dreams--
My dreams are for ever of thee.
As spring to the leafless spray,
As calm to the surging sea,
To the weary, rest--to the watcher, day--
So art thou, loved Mary, to me.