Sonnet Cxcii:

To thee I oft have boasted, in my pride, That come what may, Fate never can annul Our glorious past--so rich, so warm, so full Of bliss accomplished and of promise wide. So step by step together, side by side, Stooping this rose to smell or that to pull, We two have fared, without a cloud to dull Our morn, or noon, or this fair evening-tide. What is to follow? Death? But let me take These earthly memories from my dying bed, Pass with these treasures the abyss of dread, And I defy hell's enmity to shake The lightest ringlet on this musing head, Or grieve the soul thus dreaming for thy sake.