One word is too often profaned

      For me to profane it,

One feeling too falsely disdained

      For thee to disdain it;

One hope is too like despair

      For prudence to smother,

And pity from thee more dear

      Than that from another.

   I can give not what men call love,

      But wilt thou accept not

The worship the heart lifts above

      And the Heavens reject not,—

The desire of the moth for the star,

      Of the night for the morrow,

The devotion to something afar

      From the sphere of our sorrow?

 哈哈哈。。。各显神通，啥体裁都可以哈。。。加油！约剑大侠！：）））