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1799–1888

LANGHORNE.

Amos Bronson Alcott

Now I no longer wait my love to tell, As’ twere a weakness love should not commit; E’ en did avowal my fond hope dispel, My passion would of weakness me acquit.

Enamoured thus and holden by its spell, Evasive words disloyal were, unfit To emphasize the exquisite happiness My boldest accents falteringly express;

Here, take my hand, and, life-long wedded, lead Me by thy side; and, with my hand, my heart Given thee long since in thought, given now in deed; My life, my love, shall play no faithless part.

Blest be that hour, when, meeting face to face, Our vows are plighted, ours the dear embrace!

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LANGHORNE. · Amos Bronson Alcott · Poetry Cove