Classic Poem

Not ours the vows of such as plight
— Their troth in sunny weather,
While leaves are green, and skies are bright,
— To walk on flowers together.

But we have loved as those who tread
— The thorny path of sorrow,
With clouds above, and cause to dread
— Yet deeper gloom to-morrow.

That thorny path, those stormy skies,
— Have drawn our spirits nearer;
And rendered us, by sorrow's ties,
— Each to the other dearer.

Love, born in hours of joy and mirth,
— With mirth and joy may perish;
That to which darker hours gave birth
— Still more and more we cherish.

It looks beyond the clouds of time,
— And through death's shadowy portal;
Made by adversity sublime,
— By faith and hope immortal.