.. . . Would I Were In

Breathless, We Flung Us On A Windy Hill, Laughed In The Sun, And Kissed The Lovely Grass.

Cities, Like Cats, Will Reveal Themselves At Night.

For Cambridge People Rarely Smile, Being Urban, Squat, And Packed With Guile.

I Have Been So Great A Lover: Filled My Days So Proudly With The Splendour Of Love's Praise, The Pain, The Calm, And The Astonishment, Desire Illimitable, And Silent Content, And All Dear Names Men Use, To Cheat Despair, For The Perplexed And Viewless Streams That Bear Our Hearts At Random Down The Dark Of Life.

The Worst Of Slaves Is He Whom Passion Rules.