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 The distant cooing of the dove,

The blackbird, linnet, finch and thrush,

In madrigals from every bush

And varied accents, say "We love."

'Tis good to live, 'tis good to love—

God's greatest gift, so freely given,

To man below, foretaste of heaven

Has come to us, let us then prove

Its golden value in the scales

'Gainst earthly gold. The merest dross

And tinsel seems earth's gold. The loss

Of all the world holds dear avails

Nothing against such perfect wealth

As we in Love's own land to-day

Gather with both hands. Let us pray

That Love walk hand in hand with Health.

Health is for Love a fitting mate,

And on such guardian's rainbow wings

We well may pass Earth's fiery rings

And smile contempt on sordid Fate. Rh