Love Song

Love 's, for Youth, and not for Age, E'en though Age should wear a crown; For the Poet, not the Sage; Not the Monarch, but the Clown.

Love 's for Peace, and not for War, E'en though War bring all renown; For the Violet, not the Star; For the Meadow, not the Town.

Love 's for lads and Love 's for maids, Courts a smile and flees a frown; Love 's for Love, and saucy jades Love Love most when Love has flown.

Love a cruel tyrant is: Slays his victims with a glance, Straight recovers with a kiss, But to slay again, perchance.

Wouldst thou know where Love doth bide? Whence his sharpest arrows fly? In a dimple Love may hide, Or the ambush of an eye.

Wert thou clad in triple mail, In some desert far apart, Not a whit would this avail: Love would find and pierce thy heart.