When love is new
as the gods’ own dawn
it seems endless true,
innocent and pure as a faun.
True love ages well,
a vintage to keep and savor;
love that’s merely passion’s spell
will quickly lose its flavor.
A true heart fixed and full
will outlast time and grow;
the fainter kind can never pull
the weight of changes we all know.
Thing is, one may seem the other,
and seeming isn’t being;
life holds high a path of wonder,
the strong and true of heart alone exceeding.