[footfootfoot]

The Clod and the Fobble
-William Blake, sort of for the most part

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

So sung a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a Fobble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet:

Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to Its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite