Oh, come, my lad, or go, my lad, <br /> And love me if you like. <br /> I shall not hear the door shut <br /> Nor the knocker strike. <br /> Oh, bring me gifts or beg me gifts, <br /> And wed me if you will. <br /> I'd make a man a good wife, <br /> Sensible and still. <br /> And why should I be cold, my lad, <br /> And why should you repine, <br /> Because I love a dark head <br /> That never will be mine? <br /> <br /> I might as well be easing you <br /> As lie alone in bed <br /> And waste the night in wanting <br /> A cruel dark head. <br /> <br /> You might as well be calling yours <br /> What never will be his, <br /> And one of us be happy. <br /> There's few enough as is.<br /><br />Edna St. Vincent Millay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-betrothal/
