Ah, Lalage! while life is ours, Hoard not thy beauty rose and white, But pluck the pretty fleeing flowers That deck our little path of light: For all too soon we twain shall tread The bitter pastures of the dead: Estranged, sad spectres of the night.
Tags: transience, poetry, living, life, death

Other Quotes by "Ernest Dowson"

I understand that absinthe makes the tart grow fonder.
Tags: fonder, makes, tart, understand, grow
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion.
Tags: old, sick, passion
You ask my love completest, As strong next year as now, The devil take you, sweetest, Ere I make aught such vow. Life is a masque that changes, A fig for constancy! No love at all were better, Than love which is not free.
Tags: poetry, love, change
I was not sorrowful, but only tired Of everything that ever I desired.
Tags: poetry, desire
I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind, Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng, Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind; But I was desolate and sick of an old passion, Yea, all the time, because the dance was long; I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion. I cried for madder music and for stronger wine, But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire, Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine; And I am desolate and sick of an old passion, Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire: I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
Tags: poetry, love, lost-love, heartbreak
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