Thro’ Grief And Thro’ Danger

THRO’ grief and thro’ danger thy smile hath cheer’d my way, 
Till hope seem’d to bud from each thorn that round me lay; 
The darker our fortune, the brighter our pure love burned, 
Till shame into glory, till fear into zeal was turned, 
Oh! slave as I was, in thy arms my spirit felt free, 
And bless’d e’en the sorrows that made me more dear to thee. 
 
Thy rival was honoured, while thou wert wronged and scorned; 
Thy crown was of briers, while gold her brows adorned; 
She woo’d me to temples, while thou lay’st hid in caves; 
Her friends were all masters, while thine, alas! were slaves; 
Yet, cold in the earth at thy feet I would rather be, 
Than wed what I lov’d not, or turn one thought from thee.