Give me a thousand kisses.
Give me a thousand kisses.
My lady's sparrow is dead, the sparrow which was my lady's delight.
I hate and love. You may ask why I do so. I do not know, but I feel it and am in torment.
Suns may set and rise again for us, when our brief light has set, there's the sleep of one ever lasting night. Give me a thousand kisses.
And forever, brother, hail and farewell.
Oh, this age How tasteless and ill-bred it is.
Lesbia, let us live and love, and pay no heed to all the tales of Grim old men.
For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.
It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories