But Fate Does Iron Wedges Drive, And

Annihilating All That's Made, To A Green Thought In A Green Shade.

Had We But World Enough, And Time, This Coyness, Lady, Were No Crime.

What Wondrous Life Is This I Lead! Ripe Apples Drop About My Head.

The World In All Doth But Two Nations Bear- The Good, The Bad; And These Mixed Everywhere.

Casting The Body's Vest Aside, My Soul Into The Boughs Does Glide.