Weeds and flowers grow and die;
Sunlight never is withholden.
There were flowers long ago,
Others coming by and by:--
Do they for the light’s sake grow,
Or for their sake is it golden?
Hope and sorrow, joy and strife,
Years and pleasures new and olden
Leave us: Love alone has stayed.
Grew then Love because of Life?
Or was Love for Life’s sake made,
But for it were unbeholden?