Live and lie reclined/ On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.

The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.

For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be

Let me go: take back thy gift:
Why should a man desire in any way
To vary from the kindly race of men,
Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance
Where all should pause, as is most meet for all?
...Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears,
And make me tremble lest a saying learnt,
In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true?
‘The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.’
- Tithonus

But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills,
And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me,
And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’d
To dwell in presence of immortal youth,
Immortal age beside immortal youth,
And all I was, in ashes.
- Tithonus

To me a book is a message from the gods to mankind; or, if not, should never be published at all. . . .