137. Thro’ Grief and Thro’ Danger

THRO’ grief and thro’ danger thy smile hath cheer’d my way,

Till hope seem’d to bud from each thorn that round me lay;

The darker our fortune, the brighter our pure love burned,

Till shame into glory, till fear into zeal was turned,

Oh! slave as I was, in thy arms my spirit felt free,

And bless’d e’en the sorrows that made me more dear to thee.

Thy rival was honoured, while thou wert wronged and scorned;

Thy crown was of briers, while gold her brows adorned;

She woo’d me to temples, while thou lay’st hid in caves;

Her friends were all masters, while thine, alas! were slaves;

Yet, cold in the earth at thy feet I would rather be,

Than wed what I lov’d not, or turn one thought from thee.