Maidens, gather not the yew,
Leave the glossy myrtle sleeping;
Any lad was born untrue,
Never a one is fit your weeping.
Pretty dears, your tumult cease;
Love’s a fardel, burthening double.
Clear your hearts, and have you peace-
Gangway, girls: I’ll show you trouble.
(Dorothy Parker)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Sleep Poems, Sleeping PoemsBased on Keywords: untrue, dears, gangway, fardel, burthening