I won't describe,—that is, if I can help

Description; and I won't reflect,—that is,

If I can stave off thought, which—as a whelp

Clings to its teat—sticks to me through the abyss

Of this odd labyrinth; or as the kelp

Holds by the rock; or as a lover's kiss

Drains its first draught of lips:—but, as I said,

I won't philosophise, and will be read.