The Betrothal by Edna St. Vincent Millay — Read

Oh, come, my lad, or go, my lad, / And love me if you like.

I shall not hear the door shut / Nor the knocker strike.

Oh, bring me gifts or beg me gifts, / And wed me if you will.

I'd make a man a good wife, / Sensible and still.

And why should I be cold, my lad, / And why should you repine, / Because I love a dark head / That never will be mine?

I might as well be easing you / As lie alone in bed

And waste the night in wanting / A cruel dark head.

You might as well be calling yours / What never will be his, / And one of us be happy.

There's few enough as is.