Author Martha Gilbert Dickinson Bianchi Nay, Love — I tremble — do not come to-day — For sake of empty days when Thou Com'st not. Nay, come, Love! I will play The barren future 'gainst this vivid Now. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments