Love and Life
LOVE only sings when Love is young, When Love is young and still at play, How shall we count the sweet songs sung When Love and Joy kept holiday? But now Love has to earn his bread By lifelong stress and toil of tears, He finds his nest of song-birds dead That sang so sweet in other years. For Love's a man now, strong and brave, To fight for you, for you to live, And Love, that once such bright songs gave, Has better things than songs to give; He gives you now a lifelong faith, A hand to help in joy or pain, And he will sing no more, till Death Shall come to make him young again!
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