Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The House of Life. Sonnet 71. The Choice - 1

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 glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.

Now kiss, and think that there are really those,
My own high-bosomed beauty, who increase
Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!
Through many years they toil; then on a day
They die not,--for their life was death,--but cease;
And round their narrow lips the mould falls close.

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 20. Gracious Moonlight
2. Last Sonnets at Paris
3. To Thomas Woolner
4. At Issue
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 81. Memorial Thresholds

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