They know not what love is, who say when

The beloved is dead that love is dead.

The dreams of by-gone lovers for ever flit

In the interminable interstices of Timeless Space.

Love as a dream is born anew in some lonely heart

At some dim, unexpected, unknown hour;

Take it to your heart, then, while you may,

There build for it a nest with your warm, tender hands;

But do not cage it, for love's sake; love never is

A possession, as it must always remain the one and only

Exquisite expression of the beauty of the soul