When Love Is At Its

The Woman Who Creates And Sustains A Home, And Under Whose Hands Children Grow Up To Be Strong And Pure Men And Women, Is A Creator Second Only To God.

No Days Such Honored Days As These! While Yet Fair Aphrodite Reigned, Men Seeking Wide For Some Fair Thing Which Should Forever Bide On Earth, Her Beauteous Memory To Set In Fitting Frame That No Age Could Forget, Her Name In Lovely April's Name Did Hide, And Leave It There, Eternally Allied To All The Fairest Flowers Spring Did Beget.

On The King's Gate The Moss Grew Gray;the King Came Not. They Called Him Deadand Made His Eldest Son One Dayslave In His Father's Stead.

But All Lost Things Are In The Angels' Keeping, Love; No Past Is Dead For Us, But Only Sleeping, Love; The Years Of Heaven With All Earth's Little Pain Make Good Together There We Can Begin Again, In Babyhood.

When Love Is At Its Best, One Loves So Much That He Cannot Forget.