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II
LOVE AND LIFE
Thy hand I press,
And am not much afraid:
Though danger lie in wait in every glade,
Thou, Love, hast might to comfort and caress
My helplessness.
The way is steep;
But thou wilt soothe its pain;
And when at last the utmost height we gain,
To the soft shelter of thy wings I'll creep,
And sleep—and sleep.
The way is long;
But though I wearied be,
Still gazing upward, I shall gaze on thee;
And thy angelic voice, more sweet than song,
Will make me strong.
Whate'er betide,
I, Love,—who may not know
Whence I have journeyed, nor the way I go,—
Am still content to follow at thy side,
O deathless guide!
