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,

Journey's 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.