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"You cannot
eat your cake and have it too." -Proverb
How fevered
is the man who cannot look
Upon his mortal days with
temperate blood,
Who vexes all the leaves of his
life's book,
And robs his fair name of its
maidenhood;
It is as if the rose should pluck
herself,
Or the ripe plum finger its misty bloom,
As if a Naiad, like a meddling elf,
Should darken her
pure grot with muddy gloom;
But the rose leaves
herself upon the briar,
For winds to kiss and
grateful bees to feed,
And the ripe plum still wears
its dim attire;
The undisturbed lake has crystal
space;
Why then should man, teasing the world for
grace,
Spoil his salvation for a fierce miscreed?
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