by Robert Crawford
Of all the loves the heart can hold
The love of woman's first;
It was this one love that we had
Or e'er the world was cursed.
Then other loves - our passions - threw
Their shadows on the brain,
And like ill weeds they grew and grew
Amid the golden grain.
Ah! woman's love's the one thing true
In a world of lures and lies,
As if it were man's heaven that had
Survived his paradise!
Our other loves are but the dross
That to the soul must cling
Till we've forgot life's every loss
In Love's remembering.
Last updated January 14, 2019