Classic Poem

Thou , more than all endeared to this glad heart
By gentle smiles, and patience under pain,
I bless my God and thee, for all thou art,
My crowning joy, my richest earthly gain!
To thee is due this tributary strain
For all the well-observed kind offices
That spring spontaneous from a heart, imbued
With the sweet wish of living but to please;
Due for thy liberal hand, thy frugal mind,
Thy pitying eye, thy voice for ever kind,
For tenderness, truth, confidence—all these;
My heaven-blest vine, that hast thy tendrils twined
Round one who loves thee, though his strain be rude,
Accept thy best reward—thy husband's gratitude.