by the fire vested in me

By the fire vested in me,
till death do us part,
a will will never kill, till
one such as you is but naught—
go glow glorious creation,
bring life out from death,
bright light up from dearth,
and make misery one’s bluff,
picture, perfect, painted purely,
you are to me as one’s child,
non-sense and all—
whatever they’ll say—
so long as to me you are.