Love's Spring by John Donne
I scarce believe my love to be so pure
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude, and season, as the grass ;
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
But if this medicine, love, which cures all sorrow
With more, not only be no quintessence,
But mix'd of all stuffs, vexing soul, or sense,
And of the sun his active vigour borrow,
Love’s not so pure, and abstract as they use
To say, which have no mistress but their Muse ;
But as all else, being elemented too,
Love sometimes would contemplate, sometimes do.
And yet no greater, but more eminent,
Love by the spring is grown ;
As in the firmament
Stars by the sun are not enlarged, but shown,
Gentle love deeds, as blossoms on a bough,
From love's awakened root do bud out now.
If, as in water stirr'd more circles be
Produced by one, love such additions take,
Those like so many spheres but one heaven make,
For they are all concentric unto thee;
As princes do in times of action get
New taxes, and remit them not in peace,
No winter shall abate this spring's increase.
Also, here are some pictures taken by a friend down in New York City, during a march in Dr. Martin Luther King's honor. Pretty self-explanatory. The lad behind the green "wildcat" sign is representing both the Socialist Party and the International Workers of the World, aka IWW, aka "Wobblies." His name is Greg Pason. We've had many differences of opinion, but a comrade til the end he is, and he is a hard-worker in the struggle for social justice. The girl in the wheelchair is Alex from Providence, Rhode Island.