I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you.
O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap of murky buildings
Open afresh your rounds of starry folds, Ye ardent Marigolds.
Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!
Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.