The Rhode Island Republican

From the New Yorker

CONSTANCY

-It is like love.-Oh ! love should be
An ever changing thing:
The love that I could worship must
Be ever on the wing.

Not so for me : I could not brook
A love that changed with every wind—
A colder tone, a calmer look,
A passion less refined.

Though deep might flow the blessed tide,
I would not that its waves aside
Should turn a moment, though I knew
Again they'd seek the channel true.

I could not bear an altered eye:
I could not list a careless lay—
A thoughtless tone, whose vague reply
Told the heart far away.

I would not other lips should praise,
I would not other eyes should gaze,
If one, and only one alone,
Felt the deep love that matched my own.

I would be praised all else above--
Valued as some peculiar star;
Worship'd, as if no other gem
Lit the blue arch afar.

Mine the heart's deep devotion be,
Unchanging-half idolatry:
The polar beam, whose light divine
Nor sets nor fades ;-such love be mine.