O MISTRESS MINE, WHERE ARE YOU ROAMING?

William Shakespeare 1564-1616

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 not plenty;

Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,

Youth's a stuff will not endure.

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