WHAT then is love but mourning? What desire, but a self-burning? Till she, that hates, doth love return, Thus will I mourn, thus will I sing, 'Come away! come away, my darling!' Beauty is but a blooming, Youth in his glory entombing; Time hath a while, which none can stay: Then come away, while thus I sing, 'Come away! come away, my darling!' Summer in winter fadeth; Gloomy night heavenly light shadeth: Like to the morn, are Venus' flowers; Such are her hours: then will I sing, 'Come away! come away, my darling!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PARADOX by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 4. NEW JERSEY by CLARENCE MAJOR THE WHITE LIGHTS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |