Love me to-day and think not on to-morrow! Come, take my hands, and lead me out of doors, There in the fields let us forget our sorrow, Talking of Venice and Ionian shores; -- Talking of all the seas innumerable Where we will sail and sing when I am well; Talking of Indian roses gold and red, Which we will plait in wreaths -- when I am dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN THE POET AND HIS SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS A SATIRE [OR, SATYR] AGAINST MANKIND by JOHN WILMOT ECHO SONG by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH OUR LADY by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE INVENTORY, IN ANSWER TO ... SURVEYOR OF TXAES by ROBERT BURNS |