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...THE FUNERAL OF YOUTH: THRENODY by RUPERT BROOKE THE SOUND OF THE SEA; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SONG OF THE MOUTH-ORGAN by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE ICED BRANCHES by KENNETH SLADE ALLING |