There are only myself and you in the world,
There are only myself and you;
‘ Tis clear, then, that I unto you should be kind,
And that you unto me should be true.
And if I unto you could be always kind,
And you unto me could be true,
Then the criminal courts might all be adjourned,
And the sword would have nothing to do.
A few fertile acres are all that I need,—
Not more than a hundred or two,—
And the great, wide earth holds enough, I am sure,
Enough for myself and for you.
The sweet air of heaven is free to us all;
Upon all fall the rain and the dew;
And the glorious sun in his cycle of light
Shines alike on myself and on you.
The infinite love is as broad as the sky,
And as deep as the ocean's blue,
We may breathe it, bathe in it, live in it, aye,
It is life for myself and for you.
And the Christ who came when the angels sang
Will come, if the song we renew,
And reign in his kingdom,— the Prince of Peace,—
Reigning over myself and you.
O, then, may I be unto you always kind,
And be you unto me always true;
So the land may rest from its turmoil and strife,
And the sword may have nothing to do.