Love is Not AllLove is not all it is not meat nor drinkNor slumber nor a roof against the rain Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath Nor clean the blood nor set the fractured bone Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak for lack of love alone. It well may be that in a difficult hour Pinned down by pain and moaning for release Or nagged by want past resolutions power I might be driven to sell your love for peace Or trade the memory of this night for food. It well may be. I do not think I would.