Tuesday, September 10, 2013
To His Lovely Mistressesby Robert HerrickONE night i' th' year, my dearest beauties, comeAnd bring those dew-drink-offerings to my tomb.When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise,And there to lick th' effused sacrifice :Though paleness be the livery that I wear,Look ye not wan or colourless for fear.Trust me, I will not hurt ye, or once showThe least grim look, or cast a frown on you :Nor shall
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