Oh fly not, Pleasure, pleasant--hearted Pleasure. <br />Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay. <br />For my heart no measure <br />Knows nor other treasure <br />To buy a garland for my love to--day. <br /> <br />And thou too, Sorrow, tender--hearted Sorrow. <br />Thou grey--eyed mourner, fly not yet away. <br />For I fain would borrow <br />Thy sad weeds to--morrow <br />To make a mourning for love's yesterday. <br /> <br />The voice of Pity, Time's divine dear Pity, <br />Moved me to tears. I dared not say them nay, <br />But went forth from the city <br />Making thus my ditty <br />Of fair love lost for ever and a day.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-fly-not-pleasure/
