And one you know, can't live on love alone;
Ah, no! But better starve for lack of bread
Than want of love; for when we starve for bread,
And hunger knaws with all its well-known force,
A day and all desire for food grows weak,
And in its stead one craves but rest and sleep:
These come, and few the days ere dreamless sleep
Supplies the place of all desires and pains.
But, starve for love, and when doth come relief?
The weary soul still lives, or drags along—