Love rules the grove…

  

From the “Lay of the Last Minstrel,” Canto III.

By Sir Walter Scott

“AND said I that my limbs were old, 

And said I that my blood was cold, 

And that my kindly fire was fled, 

And my poor withered heart was dead, 

  And that I might not sing of love?

How could I, to the dearest theme 

That ever warmed a minstrel’s dream, 

  So foul, so false a recreant prove! 

How could I name love’s very name, 

Nor wake my heart to notes of flame! 

 

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed; 

In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed; 

In halls, in gay attire is seen; 

In hamlets, dances on the green. 

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 

And men below, and saints above; 

For love is heaven, and heaven is love. 

 

True love’s the gift which God has given 

To man alone beneath the heaven; 

  It is not fantasy’s hot fire, 

    Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; 

  It liveth not in fierce desire, 

    With dead desire it doth not die; 

It is the secret sympathy, 

The silver link, the silken tie, 

Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 

In body and in soul can bind.”

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