Classic Poetry


To a Lady, Asking him how Long he would Love her

by Sir George Etherege


1 It is not, Celia, in our power
2 To say how long our love will last;
3 It may be we within this hour
4 May lose those joys we now do taste:
5 The blessed, that immortal be,
6 From change in love are only free.

7 Then, since we mortal lovers are,
8 Ask not how long our love will last;
9 But while it does, let us take care
10 Each minute be with pleasure past.
11 Were it not madness to deny
12 To live, because w'are sure to die?


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