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The distant cooing of the dove,
The blackbird, linnet, finch and thrush,
In madrigals from every bush
And varied accents, say "We love."
'Tis good to live, 'tis good to love—
God's greatest gift, so freely given,
To man below, foretaste of heaven
Has come to us, let us then prove
Its golden value in the scales
'Gainst earthly gold. The merest dross
And tinsel seems earth's gold. The loss
Of all the world holds dear avails
Nothing against such perfect wealth
As we in Love's own land to-day
Gather with both hands. Let us pray
That Love walk hand in hand with Health.
Health is for Love a fitting mate,
And on such guardian's rainbow wings
We well may pass Earth's fiery rings
And smile contempt on sordid Fate.
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