Now half a hundred years have passed you by,
Yet stronger and more vibrant now than I
First knew you stand you. Who could you deny
What you would seek, who labor so to build
A better life for you and yours, and gild
Far more than Hugh’s gaze, both in scope and skill?
No gift that I could give could ever rise
To meet what you deserve, whose shining eyes
Grow brighter every year, and no surprise
Could stir in you delight you ought to get.
But knowing this, and well, I struggle yet
To raise a tribute to you, on it set
Such jewels as I can polish from the mine
In which I dig, beloved wife of mine!

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