Adieu! Adieu! O my sweet fellow
It's time to part our pillows
With kisses four
For melancholy sore.
The tyrant sun is up in the east
And call for
To cease the night's feast.
The fragrance and charm of that night
Stirs my heart
And make passions ignite.
Could you be the Helen of my Troy?
To make me immortal
In thy love and joy.
Ah! her coral lips and blue bright eyes
Take my love into seven skies.
Comments about this poem (A dream by Gulsher john )
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