I take what never can be taken,
Touch what cannot be;
I wake what never could awaken,
But for me.
...
They say that dead men tell no tales!
Except of barges with red sails
And sailors mad for nightingales;
...
There will be butterflies,
There will be summer skies
And flowers upthrust,
When all that Caesar bids,
...
You found it difficult to woo—
so do we who follow you.
Everyone would like to mate;
Everyone has had to wait.
...