LOVE'S REFLECTION

DOUGLAS ROSS.

O wondrous name, yet oft abused
By those who know not what thou art,
So often do we long for love
And think it cometh from the heart!
This name is freely on the lips
Of men and women, young and old.
To some it is a precious thing,
While some would barter it for gold.
'Tis said love fadeth like a dream,
'Tis also said, love is supreme.

Its name we heard in youthful days—
Who has not known a mother's love?
And yet some seek it in the mire,
While others bid us look above.
A priceless jewel, can it be
That many irksome find its bond,
While others seeking never find?
O love! methinks thou art beyond
This dream of mortal sense that we
Call life, and yet it cannot be.

True love is always good and pure,
Though never seen 'tis always here.
Love saves from sorrow, death, disease,
From hatred, anger, pain, and fear.
It cometh not from human heart,
But Him whose image we must be,
The Mind in which no evil is,
Reflected both by you and me.
No need for us to gaze above,
For God is here and God is Love.