Love plays relentlessly with hearts and rhymes;
I cannot choose such dusty words as dove,
Above and rove,—antiques of armored times,
And touch them flamingly to flaunt my love.

What? Have I twined them again? How love persists!
Poets, take heed and write with guarded glove,
Lest you become, enmeshed in amorous trysts,
A wordless beggar seeking rhymes with love!