| |
| LET Fame her wreath for others twine, | |
| The fragrant Wreath of Love be mine, | |
| With balm-distilling blossoms wove; | |
| Let the shrill trumpet’s hoarse alarms | |
| Bid laurels grace the victor’s arms, | 5 |
| Where havoc’s blood-stain’d banners move. | |
| Be mine to wake the softer notes | |
| Where Acidalia’s banner floats, | |
| And wear the gentler Wreath of Love. | |
| |
| The balmy rose let stoics scorn, | 10 |
| Let squeamish mortals dread the thorn, | |
| And fear the pleasing pain to prove; | |
| I ’ll fearless bind it to my heart, | |
| While every pang its thorns impart, | |
| The floweret’s balsam shall remove; | 15 |
| For, sweeten’d by the nectar’d kiss, | |
| ’T is pain that gives a zest to bliss, | |
| And freshens still the Wreath of Love. | |
| |
| Give me contentment, peace, and health, | |
| A moderate share of worldly wealth, | 20 |
| And friends such blessings to improve; | |
| A heart to give when misery pleads, | |
| To heal each rankling wound that bleeds, | |
| And every mental pain remove; | |
| But with these give—else all deny— | 25 |
| The fair for whom I breathe the sigh, | |
| And wedlock be a Wreath of Love. | |
| |
| Connubial bliss, unknown to strife, | |
| A faithful friend—a virtuous wife, | |
| Be mine for many years to prove: | 30 |
| Our wishes one, within each breast | |
| The dove of peace shall make her nest, | |
| Nor ever from the ark remove; | |
| Till call’d to heaven, through ages there | |
| Be ours the blissful lot to wear | 35 |
| A never fading Wreath of Love. | |
| |
