Where is love,
But on a plain,
And in the whims of life,
It seems to flicker out and in,
To take away all strife,
Where is love,
But in the heart,
And in the tears of life,
It seems to ever illusive be,
Yet be forever rife,
Where is love,
But in a birdsong,
And in nature’s joy,
It seems to build and lift on high,
Never to destroy.
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