Oh fly not, Pleasure, pleasant--hearted Pleasure.
Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay.
For my heart no measure
Knows nor other treasure
To buy a garland for my love to--day.
And thou too, Sorrow, tender--hearted Sorrow.
Thou grey--eyed mourner, fly not yet away.
For I fain would borrow
Thy sad weeds to--morrow
To make a mourning for love's yesterday.
The voice of Pity, Time's divine dear Pity,
Moved me to tears. I dared not say them nay,
But went forth from the city
Making thus my ditty
Of fair love lost for ever and a day.
Oh, Fly Not, Pleasure
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
(1)
Poem topics: away, city, heart, lost, sad, time, dear, voice, tender, stay, treasure, divine, measure, yesterday, sorrow, pleasure, Valentine's Day, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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