I won’t describe—that is, if I can help
Description; and I won’t reflect—that is,
If I can stave off thought, which, as a whelp
Clings to its teat, sticks to me through the abyss
Of this odd labyrinth; or as the kelp
Holds by the rock; or as a lover’s kiss
Drains its first draught of lips: --but, as I said,
I won’t philosophize, and will be read.
--Lord Byron
Don Juan: Canto X, #28
