The Day will come too soon.
Young maids will curse thee, if thou steal'st away
And leav'st their losses open to the day.
Stay, stay, and hide
The blushes of the bride.
Stay, gentle Night, and with thy darkness cover
The kisses of her lover.
Stay, and confound her tears and her shrill cryings,
Her weak denials, vows, and often-dyings;
Stay, and hide all:
But help not, though she call.
Page created by Anniina Jokinen on February 27, 2001 |
