XXVIII.

I won't describe,--that is, if I can help Description; and I won't reflect,--that is, If I can stave off thought, which--as a whelp Clings to its teat--sticks to me through the abyss Of this odd labyrinth; or as the kelp Holds by the rock; or as a lover's kiss Drains its first draught of lips:--but, as I said, I _won't_ philosophise, and _will_ be read.