The beauty of the love is our praise. It is the altar of ours to love. It is saving of tumbling. It is giving hope of meeting again. It is the glance of the heart to jump. It is sailing in yours to anchor. It is to jump of moving. To love is to forgive. To wander is also to love. What more he can sprout besides loving nothing else there is to want? Who for the love if it doesn't enslave he will never know how to love!