My Wife and Lifelong Valentine

At times, stress splits us like paths in a forest wood.
But by and by, our love returns to one, like it should.
But if only marriage’s cleaving would and could:
Always disarm irritable arts and labor for each other’s good,
We’d recapture Eden and make obedience our food.
But even when our ways twain I know they’ll merge again.
So with watchful eye, I guard my heart from all opposing sin.