'Love seeketh not itself to please, <br />Nor for itself hath any care, <br />But for another gives its ease, <br />And builds a heaven in hell's despair.' <br /> <br />So sung a little clod of clay, <br />Trodden with the cattle's feet; <br />But a pebble of the brook <br />Warbled out these meters meet: <br /> <br />'Love seeketh only Self to please, <br />To bind another to its delight, <br />Joys in another's loss of ease, <br />And builds a hell in heaven's despite.'<br /><br />William Blake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-clod-and-the-pebble-2/
