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The Clod and the Pebble

soccrates's picture
  • Love seeketh not Itself to please,
    Nor for itself hath any care;
    But for another gives its ease,
    And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

    So sang 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 It's delight:
    Joys in another's loss of ease,
    And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

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