Love Health, but let it be the love of youth; Love Peace, but let it be before the fray; Love Mercy, but before you go astray, And you yourself have need of pitying ruth; Love Wisdom's ways, but love them most, in sooth, Ere Folly turns your locks to sober gray; Love Purity, since love her well you may; But most of all, love early golden Truth. She is of such divinity that where She leads all other graces still attend, As do the roses the sweet month of June; But she away, those graces have an end, And perish as the flowers of summer, soon As autumn with his breath makes all things bare.