Love Has No Foes

Love has no foes; where'er he goes
Conditions full of mildness meet,
And amber honey-cells are filled,
And little birds begin to build,
And blossoms gather at his feet,—
Love is so sweet!

Love has no foes; the folded rose
That answering his smile's caress
Blows into beauty, with its heart
All bruised to fragrance by his art,
To every breeze doth still confess
His loveliness!

Love has no foes; who only knows
What Love hath been when Love is fled,
E'en he, bereft, would follow him,
Though to the voiceless caverns dim
Of the wan city of the Dead,
And share his bed!

poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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