Deem not this book a creed, 't is but the cry
Of one who fears not death, yet would not die;
Who at the table feigns with sorry jest.
To love the wine the Master's hand has pressed,
The while he loves the absent Master best,-
The bitter cry of Love for love's reply!
On The Fly-leaf Of The Rubaiyat
Arthur Sherburne Hardy
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Poem topics: death, sorry, bitter, book, master, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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