quinta-feira, 15 de setembro de 2016

Upon Request

Those were the days when we did idly frolic!
When no long road would stand between us twain.
And thy fair bud I would eagerly seek;
A dark cloud of pleasure would 'gin to rain.
Will that ever be so again, I think?
Time, place and circumstance in agreement?
So thou with thy lips lead me to the brink
And I watch thy explosive fulfillment?
Let me not think on it, it must be now!
No impediment must be an excuse.
Love's thrice repured nectar shall stain thy brow;
And a joyful rest will our bodies fuse.
Oh, but I dream: thou sleep'st in a strange bed.
Maybe we have spent all that could be had.

Nenhum comentário: