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.