“Love seeketh not itself to please, / Nor for itself hath any care, / But for another gives its ease, / And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.”

Blake puts the line into the mouth of a clod of clay, and the poem sets that selfless love against a pebble's self-regard. The vocabulary is old-fashioned and the thought is not, which is why the quotation still lands on readers who have never opened Songs of Innocence.