AN END TO LOVE

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast.

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest. 

 *****
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust 
Is perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;
Past reason hunted...