AN IMMORALITY
by: Ezra Pound (1885-1972)
- ING we for love and idleness,
- Naught else is worth the having.
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- Though I have been in many a land,
- There is naught else in living.
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- And I would rather have my sweet,
- Though rose-leaves die of grieving,
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- Than do high deeds in Hungary
- To pass all men's believing.
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POEMS BY EZRA POUND |
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