Twains

The mind and heart do not communicate.
The mind is well aware that it must go,
And sure that she who's left must surely know
The reason for its altered future state.
The heart, which does the tyrant mind berate,
Screams out an incandescent tortured no,
And pleads that such a fate will bring it woe
To no avail against its potentate
The mind, which blithely bids the place goodbye
And knows full well that it will soon return;
The heart begins to rock itself and cry:
The folly of its course it will soon learn
When mind (still unsurprised and wisely stern)
Leads back the heart again - but by and by.