Habit Is Heaven's Own Redress: It Takes

I Want To Understand You, I Study Your Obscure Language.

Inspiration Is Needed In Geometry, Just As Much As In Poetry.

I Loved You: And, It May Be, From My Soul The Former Love Has Never Gone Away, But Let It Not Recall To You My Dole; I Wish Not Sadden You In Any Way. I Loved You Silently, Without Hope, Fully, In Diffidence, In Jealousy, In Pain; I Loved You So Tenderly And Truly, As Let You Else Be Loved By Any Man.

I’ve Lived To Bury My Desires, And See My Dreams Corrode With Rust; Now All That’s Left Are Fruitless Fires That Burn My Empty Heart To Dust.

'tis Time, My Friend, 'tis Time! For Rest The Heart Is Aching; Days Follow Days In Flight, And Every Day Is Taking, Fragments Of Being, While Together You And I, Make Plans To Live. Look, All Is Dust, And We Shall Die.