Sonnet
Come, Death, be imminent while I carouseTo thee; press close against thy meagre lipsThis brimming cup, in which my whole soul dipsIts daily ecstasy. Old loves, fierce vows,All I lift up to thee. I will forget,To see thy merriment, two merry eyesAnd a voice’s laughter. I will grow so wiseThat there will be no leisure for regret.Sweet Death, so swiftly was thy captive takenHe never knew—and now the Spring is here.How he would smile to see the young leaves shakenWhisperingly. He held the Summer dear....Thou cursed Death, he was my very heart!Set down the cup, I cannot play the part.FRANK D. ASHBURN.
Come, Death, be imminent while I carouseTo thee; press close against thy meagre lipsThis brimming cup, in which my whole soul dipsIts daily ecstasy. Old loves, fierce vows,All I lift up to thee. I will forget,To see thy merriment, two merry eyesAnd a voice’s laughter. I will grow so wiseThat there will be no leisure for regret.Sweet Death, so swiftly was thy captive takenHe never knew—and now the Spring is here.How he would smile to see the young leaves shakenWhisperingly. He held the Summer dear....Thou cursed Death, he was my very heart!Set down the cup, I cannot play the part.FRANK D. ASHBURN.
Come, Death, be imminent while I carouseTo thee; press close against thy meagre lipsThis brimming cup, in which my whole soul dipsIts daily ecstasy. Old loves, fierce vows,All I lift up to thee. I will forget,To see thy merriment, two merry eyesAnd a voice’s laughter. I will grow so wiseThat there will be no leisure for regret.
Come, Death, be imminent while I carouse
To thee; press close against thy meagre lips
This brimming cup, in which my whole soul dips
Its daily ecstasy. Old loves, fierce vows,
All I lift up to thee. I will forget,
To see thy merriment, two merry eyes
And a voice’s laughter. I will grow so wise
That there will be no leisure for regret.
Sweet Death, so swiftly was thy captive takenHe never knew—and now the Spring is here.How he would smile to see the young leaves shakenWhisperingly. He held the Summer dear....
Sweet Death, so swiftly was thy captive taken
He never knew—and now the Spring is here.
How he would smile to see the young leaves shaken
Whisperingly. He held the Summer dear....
Thou cursed Death, he was my very heart!Set down the cup, I cannot play the part.
Thou cursed Death, he was my very heart!
Set down the cup, I cannot play the part.
FRANK D. ASHBURN.
FRANK D. ASHBURN.