It has ever been since time began, and ever will be, till time lose breath, that love is a mood - no more - to man, and love to a woman is life or death.

Let us clear a little space, And make Love a burial-place. He is dead, dear, as you see, And he wearies you and me.

The birds laugh loud and long together When Fashion's followers speed away At the first cool breath of autumn weather. Why, this is the time, cry the birds, to stay! When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over Both look their passion through sun-kissed space, As a blue-eyed maid and her blue-eyed lover Might each gaze into the other's face.

I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face; I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.

Even so We find the sea of sorrow. Black as night The sullen surface meets our frightened gaze, As down we sink to darkness and despair.

And however dark the skies may appear, And however souls may blunder, I tell you it all will work out clear, For good lies over and under.

And let its meaning permeate each day. Whatever comes, This too shall pass away.