Love Is Like A Rose, The Joy

Come To Me In The Silence Of The Night, Come To Me In The Speaking Silence Of A Dream. Come With Soft Rounded Cheeks And Eyes As Bright As Sunlight On A Stream. Come Back In Tears, O Memory, Hope, Love Of Finished Years.

Consider The Lilies Of The Field Whose Bloom Is Brief:-- We Are As They; Like Them We Fade Away As Doth A Leaf.

Oh Roses For The Flush Of Youth, And Laurel For The Perfect Prime; But Pluck An Ivy Branch For Me Grown Old Before My Time.

I Wish I Could Remember The First Day, First Hour, First Moment Of Your Meeting Me; If Bright Or Dim The Season It Might Be; Summer Or Winter For Aught I Can Say. So, Unrecorded Did It Slip Away, So Blind Was I To See And To Forsee, So Dull To Mark The Budding Of My Tree That Would Not Blossom, Yet, For Many A May.

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith; Patience Is The Early Blossom On The Tree Of Faith.