Skip to main content
Like some stout ox that patient stands
And bows beneath the yoke's commands,
So Love has given me to thee,
Thy willing servant, dear, to be.

A faithful slave I glad remain,
Contented with my pleasant chain,
Self-bidden thus, nor e'er shall crave
The pains of liberty to have.

And so together side by side
We'll come to our life's eventide,
Praying that no malignant eye
May strike on our felicity.
Rate this poem
No votes yet