Classic Poem

There are only four letters in " Love, "
Yet how fully it speaks for the heart!
How liquid it drops from the tongue
As it lets the lips kiss once and part!

For love is a lore of itself;
The sages, unschooled in its ways,
Though they know all the books on the shelf,
Are but simpletons still all their days.

Breath of flower, gleam of gem, song of bird,
Blush of blossom of Dawn or of cheek —
Still it's love that's the one magic word
That they all wait to hear or to speak.

The planets that never rebel,
The seasons that, laughing, join hands;
The showers that the breezes compel,
All listen to love's own commands.

When bird crosses bird in the air,
When rose leans to rose in the vale,
When lad nods to lass on the stair,
They are writing but love's magic tale.

When the universe first had its birth,
Unto love as a pledge it was given.
There's nothing more lovely on earth —
There's nothing more holy in heaven.

For love has held beautiful sway
Since the sun dropped his first golden bars,
And love is as fresh as the day
Because it is old as the stars.