Fly To My Mistress, Pretty Pilfering Bee, And Say Thou Bring'St This Honey-Bag From Me; When On Her Lip Thou Hast Thy Sweet Dew Placed, Mark If Her Tongue But Slyly Steal A Taste; If So, We Live; If Not, With Mournful Hum, Toll Forth My Death; Next, To My Burial Come.
No favourite Poem yet! Login To View And Add to Favourites



