12 lines
502 B
Plaintext
12 lines
502 B
Plaintext
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Come, night. Come, Romeo. Come, thou day in night,
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For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
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Whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back.
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Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night,
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Give me my Romeo. And when I shall die,
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Take him and cut him out in little stars,
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And he will make the face of heaven so fine
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That all the world will be in love with night
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And pay no worship to the garish sun.
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Oh, I have bought the mansion of a love,
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But not possessed it, and though I am sold,
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Not yet enjoyed.
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