A Carpe Deim poem
When we shall tarry by the sea,
This the best that love will be.
And when wemake the moments last,
Because our mortal life will past.
Then again, we frolic and play,
As in the fervent heat of May.
When it comes our time to go,
We will reap the love we sow.
And then our regrets will be few,
As our mortal bodies are made anew.
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