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Praise of Love.

And shall Love cease? Ask thine own heart, O Woman,
Thy heart that beats restlessly on for ever!
All earthly things shall pass away and human,
But Love's divine: annihilated never,
It binds and nought shall sever.
Oh! it is Love makes the world habitable,
Love is a foretaste of our promised Heaven;
Though sometimes robed in white, sometimes in sable,
It still is Love, and still some joy is given,
Although the heart be riven.
And who would give Love's joy to 'scape its paining?
Yea, who would lose its sorrow and its gladness?
Then let us bear its griefs without complaining:—
This only earthly passion is not madness,
Nor leads to dearth and sadness.
Love is all happiness, Love is all beauty,
Love is the crown of flaxen heads and hoary,
Love is the only everlasting duty,
And Love is chronicled in endless story,
And leads to endless glory.