Earth has so many ways of being fair:
Its sweet young Spring, its Summer clothed in light,
Its regal Autumn trailing into sight
As Summer wafts her last kiss on the air.
Bold virile Winter with the wind-blown hair
And the broad beauty of a world in white.
Mysterious dawn, high noon, and pensive night,
And over all God's great worlds watching there.
The voices of the birds at break of day;
The smell of young buds bursting on the tree;
The soft suggested promises of bliss,
Uttered by every subtle voice of May;
And the strange wonder of the mighty sea,
Lifting its cheek to take the full moon's kiss.
Love has so many ways of being sweet.
The timorous rose-hued dawning of its reign
Before the senses waken; that dear pain
Of mingled doubt and certainty: the fleet
First moment when the clasped hands meet
In wordless eloquence; the loss and gain
When the strong billows from the deeper main
Submerge the valleys of the incomplete.
The restless passion rising into peace;
The growing beauty of two paths that blend
Into one perfect way. The glorious faith
That feels no fear of life's expiring lease.
And that majestic victory at the end
When love, unconquered, triumphs over death.
Poems of Power by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Chicago : W. B. Conkey, 1902.
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