At the down of the day when the sun had picked up it heels, sat I under the shade of a tree - thinking wide and far. The days of a man could be so blissful for like a sick will he lie and like a hero shall he rise, when the love of his youth has come unto him. So, I wonder - Where cometh the power of her love, that a dying soul is rivived by her - by the stolen kisses of her lips, and the warming embrace of her arms, and the lovely smile on her face. Unto her I likend the woman I love _ in whoms heart is the seat of love. So, I sought after the part she took, and trailed the track she raced and then I knew where cometh the light in her eyes. From where the cometh rays of the sun, cometh the power of her love. From where cometh the rays of the sun, cometh the life in her kisses.