What a childishness is there in the temperament of love, that how strong and old it has come, it always needs a verbal confess.
No matter how it flourish in the depth of the loving heart, no matter how it transpires from the eyes, and shines in the blood running in the veins, and shines on the canvas of life like a beautiful picture, still it needs the words of confession coming out of your lips and moves on the frequencies of music to touch the ears of the beloved, hearing this, every time the








