Dear heart, if loving be so great a sin
Why have the gods decreed that man be mortal!
And why were you created in their likeness,
And why was I ordained to be your slave,
If in the twilight I must dig a grave,
Wherein to hide my heart from morning's brightness?
I tell you no! I will not leave untasted
One drop of sweetness life may hold for me:
Who scorns the present for eternity
I count that soul a sorry fool and wasted.