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THE PLACE OF LOVE, by                    
First Line: Love, thou art not alone for gentle dells
Last Line: Where thou art waiting, love.
Subject(s): Love - Nature Of


LOVE, thou art not alone for gentle dells,
Where summer breezes, sweetly perfumed, breathe
Through heavy branches.
Thy place is also where the winter wind
Roars down the long, bleak hill;
The flying snow
Doth blind the traveller as he strives to gain
The little cottage under the sheltering pines,
Where thou art waiting, Love.





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