For I have heard it All
Here's much to do with Hate
But more with Love
Why then
O brawling love
O loving hate
O anything of Nothing first created
O heavy lightness
Serious vanity
Misshapen chaos of well seeming forms
Feather of lead
Cold fire
Bright smoke
Sick health
Still waking sleep
That is Not
What it is
This love feel I
That feel no Love
in this . . .
Dost thou not laugh?
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