O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear! your true-loves coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers meeting
Every wise mans son doth know.
What is love? tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
Whats to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty,
Youths a stuff will not endure.