In Memoriam A. H. H.: 16. I Envy Not in Any Moods

I envy not in any moods
     The captive void of noble rage,
     The linnet born within the cage,
  That never knew the summer woods:
  I envy not the beast that takes
     His license in the field of time,
     Unfetter’d by the sense of crime,
  To whom a conscience never wakes;
  Nor, what may count itself as blest,
   The heart that never plighted troth
   But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
 Nor any want-begotten rest.
 I hold it true, whate’er befall;
   I feel it, when I sorrow most;
   'Tis better to have loved and lost
 Than never to have loved at all.
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