I Love To Doubt As

These Have Not The Hope To Die.

Thou Shall Know By Experience How Salt The Savor Is Of Others' Bread, And How Sad A Path It Is To Climb And Descend Another's Stairs.

My Soul Tasted That Heavenly Food, Which Gives New Appetite While It Satiates.

At The Midpoint On The Journey Of Life, I Found Myself In A Dark Forest, For The Clear Path Was Lost.

Those Ancients Who In Poetry Presented The Golden Age, Who Sang Its Happy State, Perhaps, In Their Parnassus, Dreamt This Place. Here, Mankind's Root Was Innocent; And Here Were Every Fruit And Never-ending Spring; These Streams--the Nectar Of Which Poets Sing.