The Clod And The Pebble - By William Blake

"Love seeketh not itself to please,
     Nor for itself hath any care,
   But for another gives it ease,
     And builds a heaven in hell's despair."

   So sang a little clod of clay,
     Trodden with the cattle's feet,
   But a pebble 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."