Part 77

Love is the source of duty, The parent of all life, Which Heaven pronounces beauty, The crown of man and wife, Beginning and the end To hero, saint, and friend; An inspiration which Is so abundant, rich, That from the finger-tips And from the blooming lips, Yea, from the voiceful eyes, In questions and replies-- From every simple action And hourly benefaction It pours itself away, A gladness day by day, Exhaustless as the sun, Work done and never done. And I have painted you, O maiden fair and true!

LV.

The voice of God is love, As all who listen prove. Be thou assured of this, Or life's chief comfort miss.

LVI.

"O is not love a marvel Which one can not unravel? Behold its bitter fruit! Ah, that kind does not suit." My friend, I'm not uncivil-- Self makes of love a devil, And it is love no more; His guise love never wore, But Satan steals the guise Of love for foolish eyes-- Therein the danger lies, But do not be too wise. Dost wait for perfect good In man or womanhood? Then thou must onward press In single blessedness, And find, perhaps too late, Love dies without a mate-- Perhaps this better fate When love a banquet makes Which all the world partakes, Proved never out of date.

LVII.

Prove all things--even love Thou must needs prove. But let the touch be fine That tests a thing divine. Yea, let the touch be tender; True love will answer render.

LVIII.

'Tis Give-and-take, Not Take-and-give, That seeks to make Folk blessed live. Where is he now? Invisible. Yet on thy brow His name I spell.

LIX.

Bear-and-forbear, To make folk blest, Seeks everywhere To be a guest. Angelic one, Who art so near, Thy will be done, Both now and here.

LX.

Comes knowledge At college; Wisdom comes later, And is the greater. Art thou of both possessed? Then art thou richly blest.

LXI.

What can I wish thee better Than that through all thy days, The spirit, not the letter, Invite thy blame or praise? Seek ever to unroll The substance or the soul; If that be fair and pure, It will, and must endure; And lo! the homely dress Grows into loveliness.

LXII.

Into the heart of man The things that bless or ban; Out of the life he lives, The boon or curse he gives. Guard well thy open heart, What enters must depart.

LXIII.

Is this--is this thine album? 'Tis nothing but a sign Of something more divine. Thou art the real album, And on its wondrous pages Is writ thy daily wages. Thou canst not blot a word, Much less tear out a leaf. But all thy prayers are heard, And every pain and grief May be to thee as stairs To better things, until Thou reachest, unawares, The Master's mind and will.

LXIV.

Seek thou for true friends, Aim thou at true ends, With God above them all; Then, as the shadows lengthen, Will thy endurance strengthen, With heaven thy coronal.

LXV.

Ten thousand eyes of night, One Sovereign Eye above; Ten thousand rays of light, One central fire of Love. No eyes of night appear, God's Eye is never closed; No rays of light to cheer, For self hath interposed. Yet Love's great fire is bright By day as well as night.

LXVI.

O we remember In leafy June, And white December Love's gentle tune; For nevermore, On any shore, Is life the same As ere love came.

LXVII.

And this is the day My child came down from heaven, And this is the way The sweetest kiss is given.

LXVIII.