[Written for the Sentinel]

Love's Reflection

What is love? I asked a child,
In whose eyes shone sweet content.
Love is mother, she replied,
Smiling as she homeward went.

Simple words from childish lips,
Yet with hidden import fraught.
Ofttimes is the deepest truth
Mirrored in the childlike thought.

What is love? I asked the sage,
Asked the poet, lover, friend.
Brings it with it aught of pain?
Is't wholly good unto the end?

No, not wholly good, they said,
For it bringeth much of pain;
Oft its rapture is short-lived,
Leaving sorrow in its train.

Then ye know not love, I said;
It changeth not and hurteth not.
It is eternal Truth and Life,
Far transceding human thought.

Love is God, the perfect Mind,
Knowing naught of sin or pain.
Man, as God's reflection, dwells
Where joy and peace forever reign.

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