Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 18, by THOMAS CAMPION Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Come, you pretty false-eyed wanton Last Line: And you my saint unnamed. Subject(s): Carpe Diem | ||||||||
Come, you pretty false-eyed wanton, Leave your crafty smiling. Think you to escape me now With slippery words beguiling? No, you mocked me th' other day, When you got loose, you fled away. But since I have caught you now, I'll clip your wings for flying; Smothering kisses fast I'll heap, And keep you so from crying. Sooner may you count the stars, And number hail down-pouring, Tell the osiers of the Thames, Or Goodwin Sands devouring, Than the thick-showered kisses here, Which now thy tired lips must bear. Such a harvest never was, So rich and full of pleasure; But 'tis spent as soon as reaped, So trustless is love's treasure. Would it were dumb midnight now, When all the world lies sleeping. Would this place some desert were, Which no man hath in keeping. My desires should then be safe, And when you cried, then would I laugh. But if aught might breed offence, Love only should be blamed. I would live your servant still, And you my saint unnamed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BUT NOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON I WANT TO LIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON UNDER A PATCHED SAIL by MARIANNE MOORE HORACE TO LEUCONOE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON EPITAPH: FOR ONE WHO GAILY SOWED HIS OATS by COUNTEE CULLEN A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 9 by THOMAS CAMPION |
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