SONG
By Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
O fly not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure;Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay:For my heart no measureKnows, or other treasureTo buy a garland for my love to-day.And thou, too, Sorrow, tender-hearted Sorrow,Thou gray-eyed mourner, fly not yet away:For I fain would borrowThy 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 passed forth from the city,Making thus my dittyOf fair love lost forever and a day.
O fly not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure;Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay:For my heart no measureKnows, or other treasureTo buy a garland for my love to-day.And thou, too, Sorrow, tender-hearted Sorrow,Thou gray-eyed mourner, fly not yet away:For I fain would borrowThy 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 passed forth from the city,Making thus my dittyOf fair love lost forever and a day.
O fly not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure;Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay:For my heart no measureKnows, or other treasureTo buy a garland for my love to-day.
O fly not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure;
Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay:
For my heart no measure
Knows, or other treasure
To buy a garland for my love to-day.
And thou, too, Sorrow, tender-hearted Sorrow,Thou gray-eyed mourner, fly not yet away:For I fain would borrowThy sad weeds to-morrow,To make a mourning for love’s yesterday.
And thou, too, Sorrow, tender-hearted Sorrow,
Thou gray-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 passed forth from the city,Making thus my dittyOf fair love lost forever and a day.
The voice of Pity, Time’s divine dear Pity,
Moved me to tears: I dared not say them nay,
But passed forth from the city,
Making thus my ditty
Of fair love lost forever and a day.