What could I know, what could I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
From Those Winter Sundays, by Robert Hayden
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
From Variation on the Word Sleep, by Margaret Atwood
But what I can I give him,
Give my heart.
From In the Bleak Midwinter, by Christina Rossetti