Love Is Inviolate

The first white star! My dear one, still we travel

A love-illumined path as when we met,

For hand in hand we hear time's rhythmic gavel

Striking our twilight hour with no regret:

Remembering the larks in April fluting;

The music of a new-born infant's cry;

The joy of lusty, laughing boys saluting,

And gay starched little girlies skipping by ...

So many primrose hours--a touch of grieving--

And from them time unrolls a miracle,

For now we see, when viewing our years' weaving,

The pattern of the whole is beautiful.

The first white star ... and night ... dawn's opening gate--

Our lyric song, love is inviolate.