And in lifes noisiest hour, there whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The hearts Self Solace and soliloquy. You mould my hopes you fashion me within;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulses beat;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud reflecting Lake.
And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you, How oft! I bless the Lot that made me love you.
The Presence of Love, By Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Whispers at Dawn