The flower and fruit of love are mine The ant, the fieldmouse and the mole — Stevie Smith

He did not love in the human way.

All the same, there is a difficulty. I should like him to be happy in heaven here,

But he cannot come by wishing. Only by being already at home here.

No man has seen her, this pitiful ghost,

And no woman either, but heard her at most,

Sighing and tapping and sighing again,

You have weaned me too soon, you must nurse me again.