The poem The Presence of Love by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And in Life's noisiest hour, There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee, The heart's 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 pulse's 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.
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