Let Him That Is Without

A Poem Begins In Delight And Ends In Wisdom.

But This We Know, The Obstacle That Checked And Tripped The Body, Shot The Spirit On Further Than Target Ever Showed Or Shone.

Like A Piece Of Ice On A Hot Stove The Poem Must Ride On Its Own Melting.

It Should Be Of The Pleasure Of A Poem Itself To Tell How It Can. The Figure A Poem Makes. It Begins In Delight And Ends In Wisdom. The Figure Is The Same For Love.

We Cannot Tell Some People What It Is Believe, Partly Because They Are Too Stupid To Understand, Partly Because We Are Too Proudly Vague To Explain.