Love, the milk that sweetens man his meal—alas, you lack:
I am he who, since he fears you not, can love you.
Love is born of heart not mind, de corde natus haud de mente;
Touch my heart and love 's yours, sure as shines above you
Sun by day and star by night though earth should go to wrack!
"Stage by stage you lift me—kiss by kiss I hallow
Whose but your dear hand my helper, punctual as at each new impulse
I approach my aim? Shell chipped, the eaglet callow
Needs a parent's pinion-push to quit the eyrie's edge:
But once fairly launched forth, denizen of ether,