To Be A Poet Is A Condition,

You Know How Cunningly Mankind Is Planned: We Have One Loving And One Hating Hand. The Loving's Made To Hold Each Other Like, While With The Hating Other Hand We Strike.

Love Is An Irresistible Desire To Be Irresistibly Desired.

But I May Be One Who Does Not Care Ever To Have Tree Bloom Or Bear.

How Many Things Have To Happen To You Before Something Occurs To You?

Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed Cannot Be Parted Nor Be Swept Away