A New Acquaintance of Thy Mind: Day 5

Had I but known our moments would be brief,

That deathless joy will soonest end in woe,

Mayhap it had some fraction eas'd my grief

To say, my love, I never lov'd thee so.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And thou art yet more ardent than that blaze;

Hadst thou been made a sprite of gentler climes,

I might have dared to love thee all my days.

But thou art glory as thou art a scourge:

Too low to curse, too high for mortal praise;-

Thou art the paean and thou art the dirge,

And who shall dare to meet thy fulgent gaze?

Had I but known,- I would have lov'd thee still:

Mine is my heart, but thou hast own'd my will.

Also (as a respite from the endless iambs):

I never want to see anyone, and I never want to go anywhere or do anything. I just want to write.

-P.G. Wodehouse

He certainly had a way with it.