Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.

Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!

Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, all were for me, in the kiss of one girl.

One may do whatever one likes. In art, the only thing is, to make sure that one does like it.

Who knows but the world may end tonight

Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

Escape me? Never, beloved! While I am I, and you are you.