By those who seek them, and rich joys abound For all who learn themselves, and the blest will Of the Creator lovingly fulfil. * * * * * LOVE. Immortal love! what power is thine, To quicken and inspire! Fabled Prometheus well might dare To steal from heaven such fire. For 'tis a beacon light to guide To rapturous joy and peace, In this our present earthly home, And where all sorrows cease. Thy subtle fire electrical, In word, look, touch or kiss, Thrills through our being to invoke Responsive mutual bliss. Once moved by this Herculean power, What cannot mortals dare? Dangers else insurmountable, They with impressment share. Nothing on earth e'er nerved the arm Of knight or warrior bold, Like love of country, home, and heaven, In the brave days of old. No matter what man's form of words, Uttered or written down, If thy incisive, quickening spell, Does not their labour crown. And still thou reign'st supremely fair, In homes and battle fields, And his the arm victorious, Who thy grand armour wields. For they who with untiring zeal, Thy heart-fires ceaseless feed, Know their supernal warmth alone, Can meet man's highest need. But hearts e'en at the altar pledged