If inquisitive would make us prudent
No eyes would ever gaze in point;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.
Were feelings free from individual mesh
And love not bonded in hearts of flesh
No aching bosoms would yearn to meet
And find their exaltation consummate.
For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were cognition all, what was our need
To quiver and faint and sweetly bleed?.
Then quest not, sweet, the "If" and "wherefore"
I love you now until I be tore.
For I must love because I die hard
And life in me is what you accord
