we give each other a smile with a future in it
And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?
What if this present were the world's last night?
So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.