Faltering earnestly assurance, that she too could, in her measure,

Prize for him the present honour, and the future's sure renown.

Now they pace the shady lime-walk, now the last words must be

Words of trust, for neither dreaded more than waiting and delay;

Was not love still called eternal--could a plighted vow be broken?

See the crimson light of sunset fades in purple mist away.

"Yes, my Mildred," Philip told her, "one calm thought of joy and

Like a guardian spirit by me, through the world's tumultuous stir,