Classic Poem

O fast we hold to those we love
And clutch them to our hearts
But still the soul desires the whole—
And what are these but parts?

O fast we hold to those we love
As we would drink them dry—
But still our hearts are not sufficed
And still for hunger cry—

Sweet is the love of man and maid—
The mother for the child
But there's a love more tender far;
More passionate and wild.

Close is the love of one for one
But there is larger worth
In the dear love of human kind
All over the green earth.

We need not lose the little love—
So easy, old, and dear
But we must find the larger kind
That holds all others here.