John Keats

Bright as the humming-bird's green diadem, When it flutters in sun-beams that shine through a fountain?

Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake

Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love's sake,

Into the green-recessed woods they flew;

Nor grew they pale, as mortal lovers do.

Brighten up — remain my true and only treasure, my all, as I to you.

— as you too love — yet I love you stronger —

Your love made me the happiest and unhappiest at the same time.

At my actual age I should need some continuity, sameness of life — can that exist under our circumstances?