O fly not, Pleasure

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

1840 to 1922

Poem Image
Track 1

Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. You can also print out the jumbled poem to cut up and reassemble in the classroom. Either way, take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.

Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
    Thou gray-eyed mourner, fly not yet away:
            For my heart no measure
    Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay:
            Making thus my ditty
And thou, too, Sorrow, tender-hearted Sorrow,
The voice of Pity, Time's divine dear Pity,
O fly not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure;
    To make a mourning for love's yesterday.
To buy a garland for my love to-day.
            But passed forth from the city,
    Moved me to tears: I dared not say them nay,
            For I fain would borrow
Of fair love lost for ever and a day.
            Knows, nor other treasure
            Thy sad weeds to-morrow,