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,