OVER the space which parts us, my wife,
I’ll cast me a bridge of song,
Our hearts shall meet, O joy of my life,
On its arch unseen but strong.
E’en as the stream forgets not the sea,
But hastes to the ocean’s breast,
My constant soul flows onward to thee
And finds in thy love its rest.
The swallows must plume their wings to greet
New summers in lands afar;
But dwelling at home with thee I meet
No winter my year to mar.
The wooer his new love’s name may wear
Engraved on a precious stone;
But in my heart thine image I wear,
That heart has been long thine own.
The glowing colours on surface laid,
Wash out in a shower of rain,
Thou need’st not be of rivers afraid,
For my love is dyed ingrain.
And as ev’ry drop of Garda’s lake
Is tinged with the sapphire’s blue;
So all the powers of my mind partake
Of joy at the thought of you.
The glittering dewdrops of dawning love
Exhale as the day grows old,
And fondness, taking the wings of a dove,
Is gone like a tale of old;
But mine for thee from the chambers of joy,
With strength came forth as the sun,
Nor life nor death shall its force destroy,
For ever its course shall run.
All earthborn love must sleep in the grave,
To its native dust return;
What God hath kindled shall death outbrave
And in heav’n itself shall burn.
Beyond and above the wedlock tie
Our union to Christ we feel,
Uniting bonds which were made on high
Shall hold us when earth shall reel.
Though he who chose us all worlds before,
Must reign in our hearts alone,
We fondly believe that we shall adore,
Together before his throne.
Hull, Sep. 1865. C. H. SPURGEON.
Spurgeon, C. H. (1865). The Sword and Trowel: 1865, 130. (Public Domain)
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