And in the evening, everywhere Along the roadside, up and down, I see the golden torches flare Like lighted street-lamps in the town.
Like mimic meteors the snow, In silence out of Heaven sifts.
Song like a rose should be; Each rhyme a petal sweet; For fragrance, melody, That when her lips repeat The words, her heart may know What secret makes them so. Love, only Love.
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