The search for love

The vast blue sphere of Earth I walked alone
and saw mankind strewn across the world.
From multitudes of folk, both high and low,
the passioned hearts of man I saw unfurled

And man and women both were wont to love:
in every cranny, under every stone,
did every hand seek after its own glove;
In every heart had love her fitting throne.

But the bridal chamber’s doors were often shut,
for love is rare (though love of love is not)
And grew on the tracks the grass, on it no rut:
The rider never comes, the heart’s distraught.

The truth do see though, to despair do not run:
and know that a loving heart is itself the Sun.