Lay the blame at Love’s door, dearest:

Thus he made my world to be.

He’s the key to Heaven’s gate;

He’s the scorn that tramples fate;

He’s the worth of living, dearest,

He’s the laugh that makes Death late.

He’s the morning sun that wakes us

To the worth of all things, dearest,

He’s the influence that makes us

Daily gladder, ’till God takes us!