Heart, have no pity on this house of bone:
Shake it with dancing, break it down with joy.
No man holds mortgage on it; it is your own;
To give, to sell at auction, to destroy.
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1952), Poem XXIX, "Heart, have no pity"
I have discovered the poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay.
To be more accurate, I'd been aware of her existence before, and had read several of her poems. I happened across them as I was grazing through the Norton Anthology of Poetry, but it was an indiscriminate grazing.
This time, her poetry really hit me, hard.
It will be a long and meaningful relationship.