'Love seeketh not Itself to please,'Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives it's ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.'
So Sung a little Clod of Clay
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:
'Love seeketh only Self to please,
'To bind another to Its delight,
'Joys in another's loss of ease,
'And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.'
- William Blake
Sooo. Maybe I'm a clod. ~tilts head~ I'm definitely no pebble. Maybe something in between?It's a nice poem nonetheless.
Clod... Pebble... I might be a pebble actually. Even though clod also has its points. Poetry can be confusing at times. o.o We had a writing program of poetry last spring, and besides writing poems we were analyzing poetry, and it was very fascinating to see what all the people could see in different poems. Different minds, different meanings. Really fascinating! x3 I'm not that much into poetry myself, but some poems do appeal to me. Some of the ones with symbols are hard to figure out, but it's twice as rewarding when you understand the meanings. :3
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