CL

Let the world's people hiss at us! I meet
Their stormiest bickerings with an equal brow;
It is but natural gloom should shroud us now,
So long the sunshine bathed our happy feet.
Let the winds howl and let the waters beat.
The past is ours; for we can ponder how
High heaven was gracious to our faithful vow,
And flashed its joys into our calm retreat.
Nor even yet, Darling, are we quite forlorn
While you can listen and while I can sing,
For all this piercing blast of hate and scorn.
Nor shall it deal us its commissioned sting,
While the great Angel of our brighter morn
Spreads o'er his brood his warm and sheltering wing.