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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472677" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>O Friend</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472677" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">O friend, tickle the strings of thy voluptuous lyre<br>And rend all air with musical sound-<br>Such sound, that I might drown<br>All my misery, my universe and my love<br>Yes, this love that cans't be mine<br>That gold will buy love matters not, <br>A fair foul fancy, if love were aught.<br> O friend play - dispel misery in the air, <br> Revive agonies, set my heart on fire<br> Play o play upon thy lyre, <br> that I may have extremity of despair. [1960]</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Om+Chawla">Om Chawla</a></strong></div>

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