For works with similar titles, see Love.
4648451Poems — LoveFrances M. Sharpless

LOVE
Like no Minerva true love springs to birth;
Slowly she steals o'er the unwitting heart,
And, while disdaining falsehood's petty art,
She screens herself 'neath friendship's oft-proved worth:
She is an angel come to dwell on earth,
To bring us nearer to the Spirit-world;
Her eyes are telling of celestial lands;
Her Father's banner o'er her is unfurled;
His blessing filleth both her eager hands.
See! now she knocketh at my spirit's door.
Enter thou, O ministrant of Heaven, depart thence never more!