Love

For him, who loves, each mounting morn Breathes melody more sweet than birds’; And every wind-stirred flower and thorn Whispers melodious words:-- Would you believe that everything Through her loved voice is made to sing?

For her, the faultless skies of day Grow nearer in eternal blue, Where God is felt as wind and ray, And seen as fire and dew:-- Would you believe that all the skies Are Heaven only through his eyes?

For them, the dreams that haunt the night With mystic beauty and romance, Are presences of starry light, And moony radiance:-- Would you believe this love of theirs Could make for them a universe?