Union

As the bright clouds bathed deep in light divine,
     When the tired zephyr scarce unfolds its wing
     To fan the pure brow of departed Spring,
Melting together in the warm sunshine,
Wind into one, and all their foldings twine
     Around each other, till the ruffian sting
     Of the cloud-lashing blast can only bring
Their forms to closer union—so will blend
     Hearts tuned to harmony, and the delicate ties
Of kindred souls, by love inwoven, lend
     Their wedded strength, to that pure bond when holds
     Spirit to spirit, in its viewless folds—
Till the dark storms of frowning fate that rise
Shall join their blending souls in stronger sympathies.