Sinopsis

Oh, Fly Not, Pleasure Oh fly not, Pleasure, pleasant--hearted Pleasure. Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay. For my heart no measure Knows nor other treasure To buy a garland for my love to--day. And thou too, Sorrow, tender--hearted Sorrow. Thou grey--eyed mourner, fly not yet away. For I fain would borrow Thy sad weeds to--morrow To make a mourning for love's yesterday.