When many thousands o’er and o’er
We’ve kissed, we’ll mix them, so that we
Shall lose the count, and none shall be
Aroused to evil envious hate
Through knowing that the sum’s so great.[36]
A well-known and especially attractive poem is the playful lament for the sparrow:
Let mourning fill the realms of Love;
Wail, men below and Powers above!
The joy of my beloved has fled,
The Sparrow of her heart is dead—