Sonnet Xiv: Poem by George Henry Boker

XIV

O Love, I leave thee all that I hold dear,
Thy precious self, in faithful ward to keep.
I need not tell thee that my eyes would weep
At any less; for, see, this heavy tear
At a mere parting, and the doleful cheer--
The sighs, the broken words, the murmurs deep--
With which I yield my treasure. Do not sleep
Upon thy watch. Press mind, and eye, and ear
Into my service. Let no bribe out-sum
Thy priceless faith, no sudden peril prove
Thy courage wanting. Fix thy soul above
Time and time's changes. Let this greeting come
Halfway to meet me, as I hasten home--
'Behold your treasure, as you left it, Love!'