Madness in Love

Madness in love, with reason in madness

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;

Oh, tell me whence Love cometh!
Love comes uncall'd, unsent.
Oh, tell me where Love goeth!
That was not Love that went.

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure,
Hast thou more of pain or pleasure!
Endless torments dwell above thee:
Yet who would live, and live without thee!

A solitary blessing few can find,
Our joys with those we love are intertwined,
And he whose wakeful tenderness removes
The obstructing thorn that wounds the breast he loves,
Smooths not another's rugged path alone
But scatters roses to adorn his own.


Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours
For one lone soul another lonely soul,
Each choosing each through all the weary hours,
And meeting strangely at one sudden goal,
Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,
Into one beautiful and perfect whole;
And life's long night is ended, and the way
Lies open onward to eternal day.



What else is love but understanding and rejoicing in the fact that another person lives, acts, and experiences otherwise than we do…?
Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and now we cannot live within.