'Tis love which makes the elephant forget'Tis love
which makes the elephant forgetWeary with toil,
my soul seeks sweet reposeYet far from home,
no comfort is there to findMy mind at journey's end
resumes commandTo cast unshadowed doubt
(one might suppose)Our zealous pilgrimage fo sorts
unkownVaried states of enduring discontentLead my mind
and soul to mortal clatterLo thus,
my heart ascends the royal throneAnd like the thief
woh borrows not, but takesThe lover who invokes a jealous
rageWith vulgar thoughts spoke venomous in toneCreates
a trembling air, which ultimately quakesForgive me
not for harboring roguish waysNot for crude language
from a brutal tongue'tis love which makes the elephant
forgetSo guilty am I, myself, love shan't acquit