Song

Oh! Love's the sweetest joy of earth, Love's keenest pang is bliss, And, like a wild, delirious bee, We hang upon a kiss:

With lip to lip and heart and heart, We live in that sweet death, And feel the breeze of paradise, Upon a loved one's breath.

We lean upon a beating breast, As on a throne of gold; And, like a monarch, thence, look out, On love-hued sea and wold.

We dwell upon a loved one's song, As on a strain of heaven, And think it charms the throbbing stars That throng the halls of Even.

Oh! Love is like a river-flood, That rolls and pauses never— An ocean-tide that bears us on Forever and forever.

This is the lore I come to teach the world— That Love formed all of matter, all of spirit; That Love keeps all things, lest they fall to chaos; That Love's pulse vibrates throughout all God's works, Whose beat is harmony like angels' songs— And man is most like God and least like Devil, When he most loves all things which God hath made.