THE love that deep within me lies Unmoved abides in conscious power; Yet in the heaven of thy sweet eyes It varies every hour. A look from thee will flush the cheek: A word of thine awaken tears: And, ah, in all I do and speak How frail my love appears! In yonder tree, Beloved, whose boughs Are household both to earth and heaven, Whose leaves have murmured of our vows To many a balmy even, The branch that wears the liveliest green, Is shaken by the restless bird; The leaves that nighest heaven are seen, By every breeze are stirred: But storms may rise, and thunders roll, Nor move the giant roots below; So, from the bases of the soul, My love for thee doth grow. It seeks the heaven, and trembles there To every light and passing breath; But from the heart no storm can tear Its rooted growth beneath. |