On Himself (1648) by |
from Hesperides, 1648 |
On Himself[]
Young I was, but now am old,
But I am not yet grown cold;
I can play and I can twine
'Bout a Virgin on a Vine:
In her lap too I can lie
Melting, and in fancy die:
And return to life if she
Claps my cheek, and kisseth me;
Thus, and thus it now appears
That our love outlasts our years.
See also[]
This poem is in the public domain