Love seeketh not Itself to pleaseNor for itself hath any care,But for another gives its easeAnd builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.'So sung a little Clod of ClayTrodden with the cattle's feet,But a Pebble of the brookWarbled out these metres meet:'Love seeketh only Self to please,To bind another to Its delight,Joys in another's loss of ease,And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.
-William Blake
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