Julie

May be they are; Yet, Auriol, ’tis not perhaps their fault, For women keep the goodness to themselves. Come, we must not waste time on faded flowers, Nor lose our tempers on a faded heart. We’ll give these rosy petals to the wind, (They throw the flowers away) Lest it should take our thoughts and toy with them. When comes Lothario, with honeyed words, To claim his pledge of you or me, we’ll send The swain to parley with the mocking wind, Tell him that since he makes a sport of love, ’Tis wrong to run two hares at once. Now, sweet, Let’s go and listen to the piping birds And hear their music, being tired of words.