noon
The law of Heaven is _ Love _ -- and though its name Has been usurped by passion , and profaned To its unholy uses through all time , Still , the external principle is pure ; And in these deep affections that we feel Omnipotent within us , can we see The lavish measure in which love is given . And in the yearning tenderness of a child For every bird that sings above its head , And every creature feeding on the hills , And every tree and flower , and running brook , We see how everything was made to love , And how they err , who , in a world like this , Find anything to hate but human pride . WHAT if a drop of rain should plead -- `` So small a drop as I Can ne'er refresh the thirsty mead ; I 'll tarry in the sky ? '' What , if the shining beam of noon Should in its fountain stay ; Because its feeble light alone Can not create a day ? Does not each rain-drop help to form The cool refreshing shower ? And every ray of light , to warm And beautify the flower ? SCORN not the slightest word or deed , Nor deem it void of power ; There 's fruit in each wind-wafted seed , Waiting its natal hour .