Whoever he was who first depicted Amor as a boy, don’t you think it was a wonderful touch? He was the first to see that lovers live without sense, and that great good is lost in trivial cares. Also, with meaning, he added the wings of the wind, and made the god hover in the human heart: true, since . . .
Sometimes with One I Love
Sometimes with one I love I fill myself with rage for fear I effuse unreturn’d love, But now I think there is no unreturn’d love, the pay is certain one way or another (I loved a certain person ardently and my love was not return’d, Yet out of that I have written these songs). —Walt . . .
The Reading
Run your hand over the poem, and you already know it. Feel the round of the R to begin; curl under the opening line and cup the first y so you can feel its tail tickling. Run your hand across its side and gather up the poem, the cup, the tail and begin down. You will do this again, but . . .