The Wife's Will by Charlotte Brontë

Sit still a word a breath may break(As light airs stir a sleeping lake,)The glassy calm that soothes my woes,The sweet, the deep, the full repose.O leave me not ! for ever beThus, more than life itself to me !

Yes, close beside thee, let me kneelGive me thy hand that I may feelThe friend so trueso triedso dear,My heart's own chosenindeed is near;And check me notthis hour divineBelongs to meis fully mine.

'Tis thy own hearth thou sitt'st beside,After long absencewandering wide;'Tis thy own wife reads in thine eyes,A promise clear of stormless skies,For faith and true love light the rays,Which shine responsive to her gaze.

Aye,well that single tear may fall;Ten thousand might mine eyes recall,Which from their lids, ran blinding fast,In hours of grief, yet scarcely past,Well may'st thou speak of love to me;For, oh ! most trulyI love thee !

Yet smilefor we are happy now.Whence, then, that sadness on thy brow ?What say'st thou ? " We must once again,Ere long, be severed by the main ? "I knew not thisI deemed no more,Thy step would err from Britain's shore.

" Duty commands ?" 'Tis true'tis just;Thy slightest word I wholly trust,Nor by request, nor faintest sighWould I, to turn thy purpose, try;But, Williamhear my solemn vowHear and confirm !with thee I go.

" Distance and suffering," did'st thou say ?" Danger by night, and toil by day ?"Oh, idle words, and vain are these;Hear me ! I cross with thee the seas.Such risk as thou must meet and dare,Ithy true wifewill duly share.

Passive, at home, I will not pine;Thy toilsthy perils, shall be mine;Grant thisand be hereafter paidBy a warm heart's devoted aid:'Tis grantedwith that yielding kiss,Entered my soul unmingled bliss.

Thanks, Williamthanks ! thy love has joy,Pureundefiled with base alloy;'Tis not a passion, false and blind,Inspires, enchains, absorbs my mind;Worthy, I feel, art thou to beLoved with my perfect energy.

This evening, now, shall sweetly flow,Lit by our clear fire's happy glow;And parting's peace-embittering fear,Is warned, our hearts to come not near;For fate admits my soul's decree,In bliss or baleto go with thee !