What is the greatest kind of love?
Great love does not flow with tears.
Rather,
it burns in the great Fire of Heaven.
In this Fire
it flows and flows swiftly
yet all the while
it remains in itself
in a very great stillness.
Nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness in deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs . . . Because the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
