TRUE Love is founded in rocks of Remembrance
In stones of Forbearance and mortar of pain.
The workman lays wearily granite on granite,
And bleeds for his castle, ‘mid sunshine and rain.
Love is not velvet, not all of it velvet,
Not all of it banners, not gold-leaf alone.
‘Tis stern as the ages and old as Religion.
With Patience its watchword and Law for its throne.
very touching poem
True love can be like a desert flower. Surviving under the toughest conditions.
As one that has been married for almost four decades, this poem has special meaning for me.
This is my favorite of Vachel Lindsay’s poems – I first read it way back in the 60’s when I was in high school – seeing it again makes me feel like I’ve visited an old friend. Thank you!