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    Main » Articles » Poems

    Out of Catullus - Richard Crashaw
    Come and let us live my Deare,
    Let us love and never feare,
    What the sowrest Fathers say:
    Brightest Sol that dies to day
    Lives againe as blithe to morrow,
    But if we darke sons of sorrow
    Set; o then, how long a Night
    Shuts the Eyes of our short light!
    Then let amorous kisses dwell
    On our lips, begin and tell
    A Thousand, and a Hundred, score
    An Hundred, and a Thousand more,
    Till another Thousand smother
    That, and that wipe of another.
    Thus at last when we have numbred
    Many a Thousand, many a Hundred;
    Wee’l confound the reckoning quite,
    And lose our selves in wild delight:
    While our joyes so multiply,

    As shall mocke the envious eye.

    Category: Poems | Added by: Syler_91 (03.09.2016) | Author: Andrey E
    Views: 85 | Rating: 0.0/0
    Total comments: 0
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