Love's Reality

I walk, I trust,

with open eyes;

I've travelled half my worldly course;

And in the way between my lies

Much vanity and some remorse.

I've lived to feel how pride may part

Spirits, tho' matched like hand and glove;

I've blushed for love's abode, the heart;

But have not disbelieved in love;

Nor unto love, sole mortal thing

Or worth immortal, done the wrong

To count it, with the rest that sing

Unworthy of a serious song;

And love is my reward: for now,

When most dead'ning time complain,

The myrtle blooms upon my brow,

it's odour quickens all my brain.