A furtive glance from downcast eye,
A rosy blush, a deep-drawn sigh;
A tender pressure of the hand,
Well understood in Love's own land. Love's language everywhere is known,
By gentle maid or king on throne.
Translated it in every tongue,
'Tis chime of bells by Nature rung. True love begins in heaven's bower,
Unfolds on earth a perfect flower.
Who can define Love's halting speech?
None it can learn--none it can teach. With gold can Love be never bought.
Love seeks its mate; by mate is sought.
Love's flowers bloom, with fragrance fraught;
The perfume back to heaven is caught. It comes to heart as zephyr sweet,
With joy unbounded Love we greet;
He makes his home in happy heart--
Unerring is Love's hallowed dart. The arrow swift from Cupid's bow
Strikes heart of king or peasant low.
Love finds but sweetness in the soul,
And joys this sweetness to control. Love speaks a language most sublime,
Its idioms known in every clime.
Illumines it the face of man,
Makes fair the cheek that once was wan. Love's tendrils round the heart doth twine,
As round the oak doth cling the vine.
Love ever is in blissful state
When in communion with its mate.