O Ruthless, Perilous, Imperious Hate, You Can

I Fear No Man, No Woman; Flower Does Not Fear Bird, Insect Nor Adder.

It Is No Madness To Say You Will Fall, You Great Cities.

Could Beauty Be Beaten Out, O Youth The Cities Have Sent To Strike At Each Other's Strength, It Is You Who Have Kept Her Alight.

Remember The Golden Apple-trees; O, Do Not Pity Them, As You Watch Them Drop One By One, For They Fall Exhausted, Numb, Blind But In Certain Ecstasy, For Theirs Is The Hunger For Paradise.

When You Would Think, "what Was The Use Of It," You'll Remember Something You Can't Grasp And You'll Wonder What It Was.