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