| |
| | The device—two hearts united. |
| The motto—“Dear love of mine, my heart is thine.” |
I LIKE that ring, that ancient ring | |
| Of massive form, and virgin gold | |
| As firm, as free from base alloy, | |
| As were the sterling hearts of old. | |
| I like it—for it wafts me back, | 5 |
| Far, far along the stream of time, | |
| To other men, and other days, | |
| The men and days of deeds sublime. | |
| But most I like it as it tells | |
| The tale of well-requited love; | 10 |
| How youthful fondness persevered | |
| And youthful faith disdain’d to rove;— | |
| How warmly he his suit preferr’d, | |
| Though she, unpitying, long denied, | |
| Till, softened and subdued, at last, | 15 |
| He won his fair and blooming bride;— | |
| How, till the appointed day arrived, | |
| They blamed the lazy-footed hours;— | |
| How then the white-robed maiden train | |
| Strew’d their glad way with freshest flowers;— | 20 |
| And how, before the holy man, | |
| They stood in all their youthful pride, | |
| And spoke those words, and vow’d those vows | |
| Which bind the husband to his bride; | |
| All this it tells;—the plighted troth, | 25 |
| The gift of every earthly thing, | |
| The hand in hand, the heart in heart— | |
| For this I like that ancient ring. | |
| I like its old and quaint device; | |
| Two blended hearts—though time may wear them, | 30 |
| No mortal change, no mortal chance, | |
| “Till death,” shall e’er in sunder tear them. | |
| Year after year, ’neath sun and storm, | |
| Their hopes in heaven, their trust in God, | |
| In changeless, heartfelt, holy love, | 35 |
| These two, the world’s rough pathways trod. | |
| Age might impair their youthful fires, | |
| Their strength might fail, ’mid life’s bleak weather, | |
| Still, hand in hand, they travell’d on,— | |
| Kind souls! they slumber now together. | 40 |
| I like its simple posy too; | |
| “Mine own dear love, this heart is thine!” | |
| Thine, when the dark storm howls along, | |
| As when the cloudless sunbeams shine. | |
| “This heart is thine, mine own dear love!” | 45 |
| Thine, and thine only, and for ever; | |
| Thine, till the springs of life shall fail— | |
| Thine, till the chords of life shall sever | |
| Remnant of days departed long, | |
| Emblem of plighted troth unbroken, | 50 |
| Pledge of devoted faithfulness, | |
| Of heartfelt, holy love, the token— | |
| What varied feelings round it cling! | |
| For these, I like that ancient ring. | |
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