Oh, Love is the crooked thing, there is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it, for he will be thinking about love til the stars run away and the shadows eaten the moon.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping...I hear it in the deep heart's core.

A man in his own secret meditation / Is lost amid the labyrinth that he has made / In art or politics.

And I will find some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,/ Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings.

I am content to live it all again And yet again, if it be life to pitch Into the frog-spawn of a blind man's ditch.

Wine comes in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That's all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.

Hammer your thoughts into unity.