Thursday, 6 March 2014

The Thursday Poem

Potted Flowers with Books IV
Eric Barjot

from Twelfth Night

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear! your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
What is love?  'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty!
Youth's stuff will not endure.

William Shakespeare
(23rd April 1564 - 23rd April 1616) 

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