"Duty commands!" 'Tis true--'tis just; Thy slightest word I wholly trust, Nor by request, nor faintest sigh, Would I to turn thy purpose try; But, William, hear my solemn vow-- Hear and confirm!--with thee I go. "Distance and suffering," didst thou say? "Danger by night, and toil by day?" Oh, idle words and vain are these; Hear me! I cross with thee the seas. Such risk as thou must meet and dare, I--thy true wife--will duly share. Passive, at home, I will not pine; Thy toils, thy perils shall be mine; Grant this--and be hereafter paid By a warm heart's devoted aid: 'Tis granted--with that yielding kiss, Entered my soul unmingled bliss. Thanks, William, thanks! thy love has joy, Pure, undefiled with base alloy; 'Tis not a passion, false and blind, Inspires, enchains, absorbs my mind; Worthy, I feel, art thou to be Loved with my perfect energy. This evening now shall sweetly flow, Lit by our clear fire's happy glow; And parting's peace-embittering fear, Is warned our hearts to come not near; For fate admits my soul's decree, In bliss or bale--to go with thee! THE WOOD. But two miles more, and then we rest! Well, there is still an hour of day, And long the brightness of the West Will light us on our devious way; Sit then, awhile, here in this wood-- So total is the solitude, We safely may delay. These massive roots afford a seat, Which seems for weary travellers made. There rest. The air is soft and sweet In this sequestered forest glade, And there are scents of flowers around, The evening dew draws from the ground; How soothingly they spread! Yes; I was tired, but not at heart; No--that beats full of sweet content, For now I have my natural part Of action with adventure blent; Cast forth on the wide world with thee, And all my once waste energy To weighty purpose bent. Yet--sayst thou, spies around us roam, Our aims are termed conspiracy? Haply, no more our English home An anchorage for us may be? That there is risk our mutual blood May redden in some lonely wood The knife of treachery? Sayst thou, that where we lodge each night, In each lone farm, or lonelier hall Of Norman Peer--ere morning light Suspicion must as duly fall, As day returns--such vigilance Presides and watches over France, Such rigour governs all? I fear not, William; dost thou fear? So that the knife does not divide, It may be ever hovering near: I could not tremble at thy side, And strenuous love--like mine for thee-- Is buckler strong 'gainst treachery, And turns its stab aside.