If we reason, we would be understood;
if we imagine, we would that the airy children
- of our brain were born anew within another's;
that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once and mix and melt into our own,
that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips
- quivering and burning with the heart's best blood.
This is Love.~The Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley in Verse and Prose