Love is the thing with wings

Love is the things with wings
That flies within the heart
And plays in life without the script
And never fluctuates--ever--

And courageous--in the tempestuous--it runs
And pain must be the gain
That could strip men of dignity
That kept so many young

I heard it spoken on enemy\'s lips
And on the foreign nations
Yet never, on the verge of breaking
It asked a rose--from Me