Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short; And done, we straight repent us of the sport: Let us not then rush blindly on unto it, Like lustfull beasts, that onely know to doe it: For lust will languish, and that heat decay, But thus, thus, keeping endlesse Holy-day, Let us together closely lie, and kisse, There is no labour, nor no shame in this; This hath pleas'd, doth please, and long will please; never Can this decay, but is beginning ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ECLOGUE: THE TIMES by WILLIAM BARNES COLOMBE'S BIRTHDAY; A PLAY. ACTS 1-3 by ROBERT BROWNING PLEASURE AND PAIN by ALICE CARY SONNET ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ by WILLIAM COWPER LINES, FR. NEPENTHE by GEORGE DARLEY CARTHUSIANS by ERNEST CHRISTOPHER DOWSON |