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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360751" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnets LLXXI:LXXII:LXXIII: The Choice</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.<br>Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,<br>Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold<br>Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I<br>May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,<br>Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.<br>We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,<br>Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.<br>Now kiss, and think that there are really those,<br>My own high-bosomed beauty, who increase<br>Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!<br>Through many years they toil; then on a day<br>They die not,—for their life was death,—but cease;<br>And round their narrow lips the mould falls close.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II<br>Watch thou and fear; to-morrow thou shalt die.<br>Or art thou sure thou shalt have time for death?<br>Is not the day which God's word promiseth<br>To come man knows not when? In yonder sky,<br>Now while we speak, the sun speeds forth: can I<br>Or thou assure him of his goal? God's breath<br>Even at this moment haply quickeneth<br>The air to a flame; till spirits, always nigh<br>Though screened and hid, shall walk the daylight here.<br>And dost thou prate of all that man shall do?<br>Canst thou, who hast but plagues, presume to be<br>Glad in his gladness that comes after thee?<br>Will his strength slay thy worm in Hell? Go to:<br>Cover thy countenance, and watch, and fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III<br>Think thou and act; to-morrow thou shalt die.<br>Outstretched in the sun's warmth upon the shore,<br>Thou say'st: “Man's measured path is all gone o'er:<br>Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh,<br>Man clomb until he touched the truth; and I,<br>Even I, am he whom it was destined for.”<br>How should this be? Art thou then so much more<br>Than they who sowed, that thou shouldst reap thereby?<br>Nay, come up hither. From this wave-washed mound<br>Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me;<br>Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd.<br>Miles and miles distant though the last line be,<br>And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond,—<br>Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dante+Gabriel+Rossetti">Dante Gabriel Rossetti</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360751" data-title="Sonnets LLXXI:LXXII:LXXIII: The Choice de Dante Gabriel Rossetti" data-description="I
Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,
Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the g..."></div>
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