To him the holiest bliss, the sweetest joy,
That e'er can crown his life so tenderly;
He worships thee within a holy fane,
Let not his hope and joy be all in vain!

O thou, sweet Queen! we crown thee in our homes,
And give to thee our love that holy comes
From Heaven to inspire and bless our lives.
For this mankind all hope to take pure wives
To sacredest of all our temples, shrines,
And keep thee pure within sweet love's confines
That we may worship thee, and daily bring
Devotions to our altar,--to thee sing
Our orisons of praise, and sacred keep
Our homes till we shall softly drop asleep
Within the arms we love so tenderly,
And carry with us a sweet memory
Of purity and bliss that blessed our lives,
And children gave from sweetest of pure wives.

Thou art our all! O holy woman, pure
Forever may thy charms on earth endure!
Oh, trample not upon thy husband's love!
For true devotion he doth daily prove.
Oh, shackle not his feet in life's fierce strife,
His weary shoulders burden,--blast his life!
Or palsy those dear hands that work for thee,
And fill his eyes with tears of agony,
Till love shall turn as acid to his teeth,
And thorns shall tear his side with hellish wreath,