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.