A Song of Consolation

Again, dear heart, we snatch an hour
From Time, who grudges bliss;
Thy lips unfold, like morning flower
To pout the promised kiss!

Deep hues arise within thine eyes;
Love's soft suffusion stealing
Fills all thy face with tender grace
And all thy form with feeling

Beside thee I can still forget
Life's purposes, how vain;
The force that dissipates in fret;
The disproportioned pain:

Who so may preach, can never reach
(Too careful comfort doling)
The soothing power of one dear hour
Of thy complete consoling