Go, go, quaint follies, sugared sin, Shadow no more my door; I will no longer cobwebs spin, I'm too much on the score. For since amidst my youth and night, My great preserver smiles, We'll make a match, my only light, And join against their wiles; Blind, desp'rate @3fits@1, that study how To dress and trim our shame, That gild rank poison, and allow Vice in a fairer name; The @3purls@1 of youthful blood and bowls, Lust in the robes of love, The idle talk of fev'rish souls Sick with a scarf, or glove; Let it suffice my warmer days Simpered and shined on you, Twist not my cypress with your bays, Or roses with my yew; Go, go, seek out some greener thing, It snows, and freezeth here; Let nightingales attend the spring, Winter is all my year. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APPROACH OF WINTER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO MR. THOMAS SOUTHERNE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 1742 by ALEXANDER POPE ON THE PASSING OF THE LAST FIRE HORSE FROM MANHATTAN ISLAND by KENNETH SLADE ALLING THE ROSEBUSH AND THE TRINITY by ALFRED BARRETT THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 25, ASKING FOR HER HEART (3) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |