I knew thee in the sunny hour,
When Fortune shed her brightest beam,
And thought, should e’er the tempest lower,
Thy love would wither like a dream.
I deemed that it was feigned and cold,
Lured like the rest by Fortune’s ray,
Inspired by vanity or gold,
To bloom an hour, then fade away.
But now, when Glory’s light hath passed,
And grief and sorrow cloud my brow,
When friends have vanished in the blast,
Star of my fortunes! where art thou?
Here by my side in sorrow still,
The same as in the prosperous hour,
Striving to heal the bosom’s ill–
O! this is love-I own its power!
And thou, who canst unchanging rest,
Though Fortune frown, and Hope decline,
Forgive me, if in times more blest,
I dared to doubt a love like thine;
And I will be (whate’er befal)
Unchanging as thou’st been to me,
And tell, and proudly tell to all,
One proof of woman’s constancy!