Benjamin Rush was a physician and signer of the Declaration of Independence. On the occasion of his 36th anniversary he wrote a poem for his wife. I have never read a more touching love poem. My love for my precious wife and partner for almost as many years, is surely as deep but I doubt that I could ever express it so eloquently. To all of you ladies who make our lives complete, a poem for you. Simply substitute your name and accept our eternal gratitude.
To Mrs. Julia Rush from her husband Benjamin Rush, 36 years after their
When tossed upon the bed of pain
And every healing art was vain,
Whose prayers brought back my life again?
When shafts of scandal 'round me flew
And ancient friends no longer knew my humble name,
Whose heart was true?
When falsehood aimed its poison dart
And treachery pierced my bleeding heart,
Whose friendship did a cure impart?
When hope was weak and faith was dead
And every earthly joy was fled,
Whose hand sustained my drooping head?
When worn by age and sunk in years,
My shadow at full length appears,
Who shall anticipate my cares?
When life's low wick shall feebly blaze
And weeping children on me gaze,
Who shall assist my prayers and praise?
And when my mortal parts shall lay,
Waiting in hope the final day,
Who shall mourn o'er my sleeping clay?
And when the stream of time shall end,
And the last trump my grave shall rend,
Who shall with me to heaven ascend?