Swords and Plowshares/Love Comes
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LOVE comes!
Clear the way, ye institutions, ye laws and customs of ages of hate!
The glance of his eye would wither you.
The quiet thrill of his voice would palsy your deepest foundations.
Ye do well to tremble at his name;
For he is the Revolution—at last the true, long-deferred Revolution.
Love is the true Revolution, for Love alone strikes at the very root of ill.
Clear the way, ye institutions, ye laws and customs of ages of hate!
The glance of his eye would wither you.
The quiet thrill of his voice would palsy your deepest foundations.
Ye do well to tremble at his name;
For he is the Revolution—at last the true, long-deferred Revolution.
Love is the true Revolution, for Love alone strikes at the very root of ill.