|  From where love came, we cannot see: Perhaps, within us, born and bred, Or taught to us at parent's knee, Or instilled by God in heart and head. Perhaps it sprang from some kind deed, Which, long forgotten, yet has grown To dazzling heights from one small seed In the fertile soil of distress sown. Respect rises up so far above The pettiness of separate view; Differences bow before a love And friendship that is blood-bound, too. May the bond between us stronger grow, May I prove the fondness I confess, Which my hand's service cannot show' Nor my simple words ever express. |