O mistress mine, where are you roaming?

O stay and hear! your true-love coming

That can sing both high and low;

Trip no further, pretty sweeting,

Journey’s end in lover’s meeting-

Every wise man’s son doth know.

 

What is love? ’tis nor hereafter;

Present mirth hath present laughter,

What 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.

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