But Thy

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow�st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander�st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow�st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

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.