(156-157) Works Of Love IV
Our Duty To Love Those We See
Fastidiousness Is Not Love
When I love you and you do too
And still I am fastidious
What I feel and what I do
Really is perfidious
I've made us be
A kind of three
I am me and I am judge
So I can see
The worst of thee
And make our love a drudge
When we make love a judgment stick
Against which no one can ever measure
Just the thought of love could make you sick
And remove from it all pleasure
When we're fastidious at every bite
Then nothing will have taste
When we travel and complain at first sight
The journey is a waste
When I am a great artist
But no model suits my talent
I do no work in protest
So I let dry my pallet
Another artist not so refined
Sees all people as her subject
Her love of them won't be denied
Their celebration is her object
Fastidiousness is a contamination
A disease that's self-inflicted
A kind of self-condemnation
Of which we're self-convicted