22 
A FRAGMENT 
 
Th’ Eternity of an immortal self 
That is, and shall be while the stars endure, 
Or while a God of Love is pitiful 
Of all men’s sorrows, and most happy in 
Their joys— 
She. 
Ah !  joys are fleeting !— 
He. 
But our love 
Is anchored in the portals of the dawn 
Where heaven begins. 
She. 
And heaven begins with us 
This day.  Behold the flowers, whose kindly gaze 
Of modest love is on us as we stand, 
And clasp fond hands before high Heaven to swear 
Truth an eternal bond, no parchment scroll 
Of perishable matter ill devised 
And scored upon with perishable ink, 
But in our pulses’ quick delight to live 
From day to day renewed, as if a fount 
Of God’s mysterious stream, that here a man 
May wet his ankle, and again immerse 
Unto his knees, and yet again assay 
To cross its silver depth and find himself 
Swimming in crystal coldness on a sea 
Broad as God’s mercy and as deep as Love.