Final Statement

Love, be not weary in doing well. Since Love is not love that loves only for praise And cannot love those who makes the flesh wince Or make truth gasps, and wisdom be amazed. We who are mortal love only by faith Believing in the perfect, keeping trust With belief, adoring what men must hate: The polished vanity is only crust! Dare you snide then who is deformed inside Whose history gives no higher mound of grace For the wider berth of self-blinding pride I would'nt lambast what's written in your face How the confusion of years defiled you For jealousy is no right to love true.