To My Love

When stars forget to light the midnight sky,
and restless tides no more their motions ply;
when Earth upon its axis fails to turn,
and setting suns the skies no longer burn;
when mountains from their heights fall to the shore,
and beauty, truth and wisdom are no more;
when years and seasons are become as one,
all winter’s snow, with ne’er a glimpse of sun;
when nightingales and larks forbear to sing,
and loving arms no tender comfort bring;
when music cannot lonely hearts inspire,
and poets write no more of lost desire -
Tho’ death’s cold hand may still my loving heart,
Yet will I worship thee and all thou art.

© David L. Axton 2006