| The Fire of Love The fire of love in youthful blood, Like what is kindled in brushwood, But for a moment burns; Yet in that moment makes a mighty noise; It crackles, and to vapor turns, And soon itself destroys. But when crept into aged veins It slowly burns, and then long remains, And with a silent heat, Like fire in logs, it glows and warms 'em long; And though the flame be not so great, Yet the heat is strong. - Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset |
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