The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1905-04-27
LOVE.
Il Is the Author Of All that Is Good In
the World.

hODeTl lNHcToOh
Love is the only bow in LIES dark
cloud. 1t is the morning and evening
star. 1t shines upon the cradle OF the
babe, and sheds it's radiance on the
quiet tomb. 1t is the mother OF art
inspirator of poet, patriot and light
of every heat-builder of every home
kinder ofevery fire on every hearth.
1t was the first dream ofimmortality,
it fills the world with melody, for
music is the voice of love. Love ii the
magician, the enchanter, that changes
worthless things to Joy, and makes
right royal kings and queens OF com
mon clay. 1t is the perfume OF that
wondrous flower-the heart-and
without the sacred passion, that d.
vine swoon, We are less than beasts;
but with it, earth is heaven, and we
are gods.
You do away with human love, and
what are we without love? What
would we be in another world, and
what would we be here without it?
Can anyone conceive of music without
human love? Human love builds
every home-human love is the auth
or of all the beauty in this world.
Love, l tell you, builds every Preside.
What would heaven be without it?
Love and Death are the greatest
themes in poetry and song. The same
is true OF the greatest music. In Iris
tan and Isolde is the greatest music
of Love and Death. In all the poetry,
in all real music, the dominant, the
triumphant tone is love; and the
minor, the sad refrain, the shadow,
the backgrounds, mystery, is Death?
Love is the greatest of all passions
and death is it's shadow Death gets
all it's terror from love, and love gets
all it's intensity its radiance, lis glory
and its rapture from the darkness OF
death. Love is flower that grows
on the edge of the grave
1t may be that death gives allthere
is of worth to life. If those we press
and strain within our arms could
never die, perhaps that love would
wither from earth. Maybe this COM
mon fate treads from out the paths
between our hearts, the weeds ofself-
ishness and hate. had rather live
and love where death is king than
have eternal life where death is not.
Another life is naught. unless we know
and love again the ones who love US
here.
The idea OF immortality that like a
sea has ebbed and flowed in the hui
man heart, with its countless waves
of hope and fear beating against the
shore and rocks of time and fate, was
not born of any book, or of any
creed or OF any religion. 1t was born
of human affection, and it will con-
tinue to ebb and flog beneath the
rnists and clouds of t"ath and dark
ness, AS long as Love kisses the lips
of death. 1t is the rainbow of hope
shining upon the tears of grief
The greatest ambition that man
can possibly have, is so to live and
SO to improve himself in heart and
brain as to be worthy the love OF
some splendid woman; and the grand
est ambition of any girl is to make
herself worthy of the love and admir-
alton of some magnificent man. That
is my idea. There is no success in
life without love and marriage. You
had better be the Emperor of one
loving and tender heart, and she the
Empress of yours than to be the
King of the world. The man who has
really won the love of one good
woman in this world-I do not care
if he dies in the ditch a beggar, his
life has been a success.
The family where virtue dwells will
love is like lily with a heart-of-firt
the fairest flower in all this world
Ii upon this earth we ever have 6
glimpse of heaven, it is when we pass
a home in winter, at night, and SEE
through the windows, the curtain
drawn aside, the family about thu
pleasant hearth, the old lady knitting
the cat playing with the yarn; tn.
children wishing they had as many
dolls or dollars or knives or some
thing as there are sparks going up te
join the roaring blast; the father read
ing and smoking, and the clouds ris
ing like incense from the altar Of do
mestic Joy. l never passed such {
house without feeling that | had re
ceived benediction.
The roof-tree is sacred, from tn,
smallest fibre that feels the soft, coo
clasp OF earth, to the topmost flowel
the spreads it's bosom to the sun, an(
like a spendthrift gives sperfume tt
the air.
| 1 tell you tonight that there i.
more love in the homes of the poor
than in the palaces of the rich. TIL,
meanest hut with love in it is a palac,
fit for the gods, and a palace without
love is a den fit only for wild beasts
| No matter whether you are rich OF
poor, treat your wife as if she were {
splendid flower, and she will fiji YOU
life with perfume and with Joy. Ant
do you know that it is a splendid
thing to think that the woman 70,
really love will never grow old to you
Through the wrinkles of time, through
the mask OF years if you really Low,
her you will always see the face 70,
loved and won. And q woman wht
really loves man does not see tina
he grows old; he is not decrepit tt
her; he does not tremble: he is no
old; she always sees the same gallant
gentleman who won her hand anC
heart.
| like to look at it in that way.
like to think that love is eternal, ant
to love in that way, and then q
down the hill of life together, and a.
you go down hear, perhaps, the laugh
ter of grandchildren, while the bird
OF Joy sing once more in the leafles
branches OF the tree of old age.