She That Asks Her Dear

Our Love Is Principle, And Has Its Root In Reason, Is Judicious, Manly, Free.

In Indolent Vacuity Of Thought.

Perhaps Thou Gav'st Me, Though Unseen, A Kiss; Perhaps A Tear, If Souls Can Weep In Bliss.

I Crown Thee King Of Intimate Delights, Fire-side Enjoyments, Home-born Happiness, And All The Comforts That The Lowly Roof Of Undisturb'd Retirement, And The Hours Of Long Uninterrupted Ev'ning, Know.

Tis Providence Alone Secures In Every Change Both Mine And Yours.