One word is too often profaned <br />For me to profane it, <br />One feeling too falsely disdained <br />For thee to disdain it; <br /> <br />One hope is too like despair <br />For prudence to smother, <br />And pity from thee more dear <br />Than that from another. <br /> <br />I can give not what men call love, <br />But wilt thou accept not <br />The worship the heart lifts above <br />And the heavens reject not,-- <br /> <br />The desire of the moth for the star, <br />Of the night for the morrow, <br />The devotion to something afar <br />From the sphere of our sorrow?<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-6/
