Love’s greatest merit lies in constancy,

That golden thread that bests the rot of time

And weathers all the blight there is to be,

Surviving yet the worst of earthly crime;

Believing love will triumph come what may

Despite the darkness fortune’s hand bequeaths—

In this, the truest hearts shall still allay

The sharpest sword that foul fate unsheaths.

As morning sun gives hope to ravaged earth,

As gentle rain breeds life from barren ground,

As precious souls bestir in hallowed birth—

In life’s enduring rhythm, truth is found.

By measured cadence love plays out its course

Against all odds, though they be blessed or cursed.