Poetry Month

Song (O Mistress Mine)
by William Shakespeare

O, mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear---your true love's coming,
  That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
  Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
  What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty---
  Youth's a stuff will not endure.

While yesterday's poem was noted to be from "Cymbeline," there is no notice that this is from "Twelfth Night." I wonder why. Was the latter considered too lascivious for children's minds in 1933?