Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright in the forests of the night... - William Blake

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.

Eternity is in love with the productions of time. The busy bee has no time for sorrow. The hours of folly are measur’d by the clock, but of wisdom: no clock can measure.

The look of love alarms
Because 'tis filled with fire;
But the look of soft deceit
Shall win the lover's hire.