Page:Carroll - Three Sunsets.djvu/86

A SONG OF LOVE. Whence the music that fills all our being—that thrills
 * Around us, beneath, and above?

'Tis a secret: none knows how it comes, how it goes—
 * But the name of the secret is Love!
 * For I think it is Love,
 * For I feel it is Love,
 * For I'm sure it is nothing but Love!

Say, whose is the skill that paints valley and hill,
 * Like a picture so fair to the sight?

That flecks the green meadow with sunshine and shadow,
 * Till the little lambs leap with delight?

'Tis a secret untold to hearts cruel and cold,
 * Though 'tis sung, by the angels above,

In notes that ring clear for the ears that can hear—
 * And the name of the secret is Love!
 * For I think it is Love,
 * For I feel it is Love,
 * For I'm sure it is nothing but Love!

Oct., 1886.

THE END.