And in Life's noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy.

     You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within ;
     And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
     Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulses beat ;
     You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
     Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
     On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.

And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you,
How oft ! I bless the Lot, that made me love you.