Never love with all your heart,
It only ends in aching;
And bit by bit to the smallest part
That organ will be breaking.
Never love with all your mind,
It only ends in fretting;
In musing on sweet joys behind,
too poignant for forgetting.
Never love with all your soul,
for such there is no ending;
though a mind that frets may find control,
and a shattered heart find mending.
Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed,
Confine some undercover,
And when love goes, bid him God-speed,
and find another lover.
Notes
Countee Cullen spins the other side of love with this poignant rhyming poem.
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Discovering this poem
From guest Kathy Blackwelder (contact)
My mother had a sister Alice who died from TB in 1936, and among Alice's things I found a notebook in which, among other things, she copied poetry she liked. In that notebook I found this poem and due to the wonders of Google, I now know its author. How sad that he died so young. Thank you for the information that this poem is probably now in the public domain as I am writing a book about the sisters and wanted to include it.
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