Classic Poem

'Tis said the quiet stream is deep,
Its tranquil breast but shews
How well in silence it can keep
What lesser depths disclose.
Thus if, dear maid, my love for thee
Its tale unheard records,
Believe the unpretending plea—
A heart too full for words.

When first the star of hope appeared
To bid me ne'er resign
The thought that ev'ry sorrow cheered,
That thou might yet be mine;
And when the dream at length came true,
Which still such bliss affords,
I only felt that I'd for you
A heart too full for words.

And, finding time has o'er us rolled,
No future need we fear,
For memories of joys untold
Shall bless each coming year.
And, as we journey down the hill,
Sustained by Hymen's cords,
We'll each feel how the past can fill
A heart too full for words.