[Written for the Sentinel.]

LOVE'S HOUR

Love waits not for a designated hourTo spread the feast of honey and of wine;Each moment it is present,—mine and thineAnd all mankind's who know and seek Love's power.

Love chooses not the object of its grace;Impartially its tender blessings fall,Freeing each struggling heart from grievous thrall;Now is the time and here the appointed place.

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FROM OUR EXCHANGES
October 5, 1912
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