Troth Poem by Claude T. Cawley

My oath to you the grandeur claims of gold
A thousand cities tribute could not mete
Or blames the failure of the sun to hold
A measure with your countenance complete
My sighs begin with promises to bring
For your delight the fabled gossauet
Of nebulas and distant orbs; then fling
At fate my recklessness to answer her;
And finish with a quest to fight the odds
A solemn vow to seal your heart: "I'll climb
The heights, I'll plumb the depths, I'll smith the gods!"
These deeds are merely wrought in word sublime,

But dare I offer what is mine to give
For you through all my life to love and live?