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.