Song in Spite of Myself
NEVER love with all your heart, It only ends in aching;And bit by bit to the smallest part That organ will be breaking.
Never love with all your mind, It only ends in fretting;In musing on sweet joys behind, Too poignant for forgetting.
Never love with all your soul, For such there is no ending,Though a mind that frets may find control, And a shattered heart find mending.
Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed, Confine some under cover,And when love goes, bid him God-speed. And find another lover.
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