What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
I will be deafer than the blue-eyed cat, And thrice as blind as any noonday owl, To holy virgins in their ecstasies.
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
Of love that never found his earthly close, What sequel? Streaming eyes and breaking hearts; Or all the same as if he had not been?