The ends of being, I’ll chart with you,
If only to test Miss Barrett’s view;
I only hope that thou bring with you,
Thy heart and humor, too!
For mine eyes are veiled so often,
So then, your heart must speak;
And if I refuse to listen,
Beat my madness with love’s stick.
Though my feet may sore so early,
I’ll still walk the vale with you;
If this happens, dear, indulge me,
Tell me, “I will carry you!”
If life’s cares begin to blind me,
Shield me from sun’s ‘whelming rays;
If the morrow steals my melody,
Sing our songs from better days.
This my promise, to keep loving,
Yet changing I cannot suppress;
If perchance I wake up languid,
Stir me up with love’s caress.
I will care for you so closely,
And adore you faithfully;
But I’ll doubt it that you’ll love me,
If in dreaming you go weary —-
For I am simple and so homely,
Leaving lots to be desired;
So love me with love, and love only —
And with loving do not be tired!