The trembling movement of a joy too pure
To dwell with dust has ceased; gone is a joy
Whose memory no sorrow can destroy-
The more than forty years of love as sure
As God's high promises. Truth must endure.
Love crowns the bended head when no alloy
Of low desire rings base, no cares annoy,
And the soul sits in sight of God secure.
O wife with God, loved next to God, true wife!
To thee these careful words I dedicate,
Which through long time pursue the path of life
Where England treads the way that thou hast trod
Of simple Duty, glad to work and wait,
And bring her children to the love of God.