Love reckons not by time — its May days of delight
Are swifter than the falling stars that pass beyond our sight.
Love reckons not by time — its moments of despair
Are years that march like prisoners, who drag the chains they wear.
Love counts not by the sun — it hath no night or day —
‘ Tis only light when love is near —‘ tis dark with love away.
Love hath no measurements of height, or depth, or space,
But yet within a little grave it oft hath found a place.
Love is its own best law — its wrongs seek no redress;
Love is forgiveness — and it only knoweth how to bless.