Love’s Ideal
Was there ever a love like the love of my dream?
Love, holy, unselfish, devoted and pure,
Unfailing and sweet as the flow of a stream
Whose source is a spring, that God made to endure.
A love that is love, with no blending of dross;
Where soul, unto soul, giveth strength of its own—
A love that knows never of languor or loss,
Or silently grieves that its spirit has flown.
A love with its possibles nobly fulfilled,
Where heart unto heart is e’er loyal and true,
Where blessing for each, is thro’ kindness distilled—
A rodomel never embittered with rue.
A love that the angels, rejoicing to see,
Would guard in life’s paths from the harpies that roam;
Peace, Happiness, Charity,—loveliest three—
Would make, for such lovers, a Heaven of Home.