Poem XXVI. Carpe Diem

O Mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love’s coming 2That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journeys end in lovers’ meeting— 2Every wise man’s son doth know.

What is love? ’tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; 2What’s to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty,— Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty, 2Youth’s a stuff will not endure. W. Shakespeare