A promise’s a promise: I’ll hold on – but sweetheart, you’ve to help me.

(I'll) Keep holding on... 'Cause I know we'll make it through, we'll make it through.

I sat with Love upon a woodside well,
Leaning across the water, I and he;
Nor ever did he speak nor looked at me,
But touched his lute wherein was audible
The certain thing he had to tell:
Only our mirrored eyes met silently
In the low wave; and that sound came to be
The passionate voice I knew; and my tears fell.

“WILLOWWOOD”
– Dante Gabriel Rossetti