I trust thee from my soul, O Mary dear! But, ofttimes when delight has fullest power, Hope treads too lightly for herself to hear, And Doubt is ever by until the hour: I trust thee, Mary, but till thou art mine Up from thy foot unto thy golden hair, O let me still misgive thee and repine, Uncommon doubts spring up with blessings rare! Thine eyes of purest love give surest sign, Drooping with fondness, and thy blushes tell A flitting tale of steadiest truth and zeal; Yet I will doubt - to make success divine! A tide of summer dreams with gentlest swell Will bear upon me then, and I shall love most well! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROSE (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO WALTER LIONEL DE ROTHSCHILD ON HIS BAR-MITZVAH by LOUIS BARNETT ABRAHAMS AN INVITATION TO A DRINKFEST by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS MERCURY; ON LOSING MY POCKET MILTON AT LUSS NEAR BEN LOMOND by ROBERT ANDREWS AN INFANTRYMAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |