April 8.

I think awhile of Love, and, while I think, Love is to me a world, Sole meat and sweetest drink, And close connecting link 'Tween heaven and earth.

I only know it is, not how or why, My greatest happiness; However hard I try, Not if I were to die, Can I explain.

I fain would ask my friend how it can be, But, when the time arrives, Then Love is more lovely Than anything to me, And so I'm dumb.

For, if the truth were known, Love cannot speak, But only thinks and does; Though surely out 't will leak Without the help of Greek, Or any tongue.

A man may love the truth and practice it, Beauty he may admire, And goodness not omit, As much as may befit To reverence.

But only when these three together meet, As they always incline, And make one soul the seat And favorite retreat Of loveliness;

When under kindred shape, like loves and hates And a kindred nature, Proclaim us to be mates, Exposed to equal fates Eternally;

And each may other help, and service do, Drawing Love's bands more tight, Service he ne'er shall rue While one and one make two, And two are one;

In such case only doth man fully prove, Fully as man can do, What power there is in Love His inmost soul to move Resistlessly.