WHERE LOVE HAS BEEN by AMOS RUSSEL WELLS

With happy heart I tread the ways
Of this world of hate and sin.
And everywhere I whisper praise
That there true lovers have been.

Not only in some dim retreat,
Where the branches that bend above,
And the mossy banks, for lovers meet,
Seem Cupid's palace of love,

But sometimes on the brick-paved walk
Of a city's seething street,
The air yet thrills with lovers' talk,
And the brick with lovers' feet.

For where our thronging human race
Most ceaselessly comes and goes,
Most sure am I that blessed place
Some touch of a lover knows.

And humdrum shops, and factories,
And the bustling market square,
And railroad stations, -- spots like these,
All vulgar, and hot, and bare, --

Some lovers, I have faith to hold,
Have hallowed each homely place,
And changed its pewter all to gold,
And its homeliness all to grace.

And thus I walk with listening ear,
Wherever I chance to be,
If some sweet echo I may hear,
Or some lingering love-light see.
And so God bless the lovers dear,
As they bless this world for me!

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