Sends ever forth a constant stream.
True love is like the stars on high
That shine with undiminished ray,
And glows all warm and fervently
As does the splendid orb of day.
Naught but the beauty of the soul,
Arrayed in virtue’s peerless dress,
Can pure love waken, or controul
The bosom with its loveliness.
It is the glorious bond of life