SONG IN SPITE OF MYSELF by Countee Cullen.

Never love with all your heart, it only ends in aching; And bit by bit to the smallest part That organ will be breaking.
Never love with all your mind, it only ends in fretting; In musing on sweet joys behind, Too poignant for forgetting.

Never love with all your soul, For such there is no ending, Though a mind that frets may find control, And a shattered heart find mending.
Give but a grain of the heart’s rich seed, confine some under cover, And when love goes, bid him God-speed. And find another lover…

Reference:
Countee Cullen

Category: Love,