When Spring comes laughingBy vale and hill,By wind-flower walkingAnd daffodil,-Sing stars of morning,Sing morning skies,Sing blue of speedwell,-And my Love's eyes.
When comes the Summer,Full-leaved and strong,And gay birds gossipThe orchard long,-Sing hid, sweet honeyThat no bee sips;Sing red, red roses,-And my Love's lips.
When Autumn scattersThe leaves again,And piled sheaves buryThe broad-wheeled wain,-Sing flutes of harvestWhere men rejoice;Sing rounds of reapers,-And my Love's voice.
But when comes WinterWith hail and storm,And red fire roaringAnd ingle warm,-Sing first sad goingOf friends that part;Then sing glad meeting,-And my Love's heart.
All Truth-bringers were permitted to proclaim God’s Eternal Truth. Then came men who began to quibble about it, dragging it down to their level, and distorting it until the Truth had become falsehood. Mohammed…