Love's Nest

Dear swallow, when you come back with the new year, you weave your nest; and in winter you disappear to the Nile or Memphis.
Love builds ever a nest in my heart; one Desire is winged there and another is an egg and another already half-hatched; and ever comes the cry of the gaping nestlings. And the larger feed the lesser loves.
Those who feed straightway conceive others. What is to be done then? I cannot out-clamour all these loves!
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