Song
Oh girl of mine, where do you roam?
O, stay and hear; your true love's come,
That can sing both high and low.
Go on no more, my fresh-faced sweet;
For trips do end when true loves meet,
As each wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 'tis not what lasts;
The mirth of now is but now's laughs;
What's to come is still not sure:
To pass on things, there's not a lot;
Then come and kiss me, sweet I've caught,
Youth's a stuff 'twill stay no more.
-- Will the Bard
from TWELFTH NIGHT